THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


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MEMORIALS  OF  A  QUIET  LIFE 

VOL.  L 


I 


37/ 

I?  7 


PREFACE. 


ONG  ago,  in  the  first  months  of  her  widowhood,  these 
Memorials  were  begun  by  my  dearest  mother,  as  a 
Memoir  of  her  husband,  and  of  their  common  life  at  Alton. 
Many  old  friends  of  the  family  then  gladly  lent  their  assist- 
ance, and  came  forward  with  letters  and  journals  which  they 
offered  for  her  use.  But  in  her  weak  health  she  was  unable 
to  bear  the  strain  of  a  work  so  full  of  conflicting  excite- 
ments of  pleasure  and  pain,  and,  after  a  long  effort,  she  was 
reluctantly  compelled  to  lay  it  aside. 

Many  years  after,  when,  upon  the  death  of  her  sister-in- 
law,  Mrs.  Julius  Hare,  the  last  link  was  broken  with  another 
portion  of  her  sacred  past,  and  when  the  remembrance  of 
all  that  Hurstmonceaux  Rectory  had  been,  seemed  likely  to 
perish  with  the  loving  circle  of  those  who  had  shared  its 
joys  and  sorrows,  my  mother  again  took  up  the  pen  she  had 
so  long  laid  aside,  and  wished  to  continue  her  work  as  a 
Memorial  of  the  Two  Brothers,  Augustus  and  Julius  Hare, 
who  were  the  authors  of  the  "  Guesses  at  Truth."  But  age 


VI  PREFACE. 

and  infirmity  were  already  pressing  upon  her,  and  she  soon 
became  unable  to  do  more  than  arrange  the  materials  in 
her  hands,  and  add  notes  for  my  guidance  as  to  the  form 
and  manner  in  which  she  wished  them  to  be  applied. 

In  the  last  two  years  of  her  life  she  yielded  to  my  earnest 
wish,  that — in  carrying  on  her  work  if  I  survived  her — I 
might  make  her  who  had  been  the  sunshine  of  my  own  life 
the  central  figure  in  the  picture.  And  she  then  consented 
to  employ  the  short  interval  through  which  she  was  still 
spared  to  bless  us,  in  writing  down  or  dictating  many  frag- 
ments concerning  those  with  whom  her  earlier  life  was 
passed,  and  who  had  long  since  joined  the  unseen  "  cloud 
of  witnesses." 

My  mother  had  always  tried  to  make  the  simple  ex- 
perience of  her  own  quiet  life  as  useful  to  others  as  it 
might  be,  and  many  who  came  to  visit  her  had  found  in 
her  gentle  counsel  that  help  and  comfort  which  many  books 
and  much  learning  had  failed  to  inspire.  Her  own  heart 
was  always  so  filled  with  thankfulness  for  the  many  mercies 
and  blessings  of  her  long  life,  so  grateful  to  the  Power  which 
had  upheld,  guided,  and  comforted  her,  that  she  was  ever 
filled  with  an  earnest  yearning  to  lead  others  to  establish 
themselves  on  the  same  Rock ;  and  whenever  she  felt  that 
the  story  of  God's  dealings  in  her  own  life  could  lead  others 
to  a  simpler  faith  and  more  entire  trust  in  Him,  she  never 
allowed  any  self-seeking  reticence  to  interfere  with  this 
instrumentality.  "  If  I  might  only  be  a  bridge  upon  which 


PREFACE.  Vll 

any  Christian  might  pass  over  the  chasm  of  doubt  and 
become  altogether  believing,"  was  her  constant  feeling,  and 
"  Oh,  that  my  past  life,  which  has  been  so  wonderfully  blest 
by  God,  might  be  made  useful  for  His  service  and  lead 
others  to  more  entire  trust  in  Him."  And  in  this  feeling, 
when  she  was  passing  away  from  me,  she  permitted  me,  if  I 
thought  it  could  be  made  useful  for  others,  to  uplift  the  veil 
of  her  home  life,  and  allow  others  to  look  in  upon  her 
private  thoughts  and  meditations,  and  so  endeavour  to 
make  them  in  some  degree  sharers  in  the  blessing  her  dear 
life  has  been  to  me. 

My  mother's  existence  was  so  bound  up  with  that  of  the 
immediate  circle  of  her  beloved  ones,  especially  with  that  of 
her  husband,  her  sister,  her  brother-in-law  Julius,  and  her 
two  sisters-in-law,  Lucy  and  Esther  Hare,  that  the  story  of 
her  life  becomes  of  necessity  that  of  their  lives  also,  and 
this  I  have  tried  to  tell  in  no  words  of  my  own,  but  in  such 
selections  from  their  common  letters  and  journals  as  may 
give  the  truest  picture  of  what  they  were. 

It  has  been  rightly  observed  that  no  real  interest  can  be 
derived  from  a  memoir  which  tells  less  than  "  the  truth, 
the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth ;"  and  thus — while 
in  collecting  the  fragments  which  remain  from  the  lives  of 
my  loved  and  lost  ones,  I  am  chiefly  urged  by  the  desire 
of  making  others  feel  the  influence  of  the  sunshine  of  love 
which  has  lighted  up  my  past  life — I  have  striven  to  make 
my  story  no  mere  eulogy  of  those  of  whom  I  have  written, 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

but  to  give  such  traits  of  their  living,  acting  reality  as  shall 
present  a  true  portrait  to  the  reader's  mind. 

"  They  are  all  gone  into  the  world  of  light ! 

And  I  alone  sit  lingering  here  ; 
Their  very  memory  is  fair  and  bright, 
And  my  sad  thoughts  doth  clear. 

"  I  see  them  walking  in  an  air  of  glory, 

Whose  light  doth  trample  on  my  days  ; 
My  days  which  are  at  best  but  dull  and  hoary, 
Mere  glimmerings  and  decays. 

"  O  holy  hope,  and  high  humility, 

High  as  the  heavens  above  ! 

These  are  your  walks,  and  you  have  show'd  them  me 
To  kindle  my  cold  love." 


HOLMHURST.  August.  187*. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.   I. 


PAGE 

I.   CHILDHOOD                     .                                 .....  I 

|ll.   STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND   HODNET l8 

III.   THE  HARES   OF  HURSTMONCEAUX £6 

IV.   AUGUSTUS  AND  JULIUS  HARE 159 

V.   CHANGES 2O7 

VI.   WEST  WOODHAY 245 

VII.   HOME  PORTRAITURE 284 

VIII.   TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON 315 

IX.   JOURNALS — "THE   GREEN  BOOK" 344 

X.   WILTSHIRE  RIOTS  AND  VILLAGE  DUTIES            .           .          .  352 

XI.   SUNSHINE 383 

XII.  THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD 445 


I. 

CHILDHOOD. 

"  I  begin 

My  story  early — not  misled,  I  trust, 
By  an  infirmity  of  love  for  days 
Disowned  by  memory — ere  the  breath  of  spring, 
Planting  my  snowdrops  among  winter  snows." 

WORDSWORTH,  The  Prelude. 

A  BOUT  a  mile  from  the  small  town  of  Knutsford  in 
Cheshire,  an  avenue  of  elm-trees  leads  to  the  pleasant 
old-fashioned  house  of  Toft.  No  family  but  one  have  ever 
lived  in  that  house.  The  family  of  De  Toft  claimed  direct 
descent  from  Gunnora,  Duchess  of  Normandy,  grandmother 
of  William  tht  Conqueror,  and  the  first  De  Toft  who 
settled  in  England  came  over  to  this  country  with  his  royal 
cousin.  In  1300,  the  property  passed  into  the  hands  of  the 
Leycesters,  when  its  heiress,  in  the  reign  of  Richard  II., 
married  Rafe  Leycester,  of  Tabley,  a  younger  brother  of 
the  family  who  then,  as  now,  occupied  the  adjoining  estate. 
Until  late  years  the  alliances  of  Cheshire  gentry  were 
almost  always  sought  within  the  limits  of  "  the  good  old 
county,"  and  thus,  in  the  time  of  Charles  II.,  the  owner  of 
Toft  again  married  into  the  family  of  his  neighbour  at 
Tabley,  in  the  person  of  Eleanor,  daughter  of  Sir  Peter 

VOL.  I.  B 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


Leycester,  the  historian,  from  whom  therefore  the  families 
of  Tabley  and  Toft  are  equally  descended. 

The  "  Hall "  of  Toft  was  built  about  1600,  on  the  site  of 
an  earlier  manor-house,  for  the  chapel  of  which  the  Pope 
had  granted  an  indulgence  in  1412.  It  consists  of  a 
central  tower  with  a  long,  low  wing  on  either  side,  once  of 
red  brick,  but  long  since  covered  with  stucco ;  and  it  looks, 
on  one  side  across  the  richly  wooded  Cheshire  plain  to  the 
rock  which  is  crowned  by  Beeston  Castle,  and  on  the  other 
upon  a  low-lying  park,  studded  with  fine  trees,  and  upon  a 
large  pool  into  which  the  family  threw  their  wine  at  the 
time  of  the  rising  of  the  Stuarts,*  and  whence  it  was  fished 
up,  not  much  improved,  a  hundred  years  after. 

Rafe  Leycester  of  Toft,  whose  widow  was  still  living  in 
the  old  family  house  at  the  time  this  story  opens,  had  been 
the  father  of  thirteen  children  of  very  different  ages ;  several 
of  these  had  died  in  childhood,  others  were  dispersed  by 
marriage  or  other  causes;  but  the  youngest,  Oswald,  at 
that  time  Vicar  of  Knutsford,  was  established  at  Toft  with 
his  mother  and  his  eldest  brother  George,  who  was  un- 
married ;  and  then,  and  long  after,  Toft  was  the  centre  and 
rallying-point  of  the  whole  family,  and  beloved  and  looked 
upon  as  one  of  the  dearest  and  pleasantest  of  homes  to  the 
circle  of  relations  and  friends  to  whom  it  was  ever  open. 
Its  very  name  as  well  as  look  cheered  the  heart  and  spoke 
of  love  and  unity.  An  aged  member  of  the  family  used  to 
say  that  she  always  thought  of  this  family  home  in  reading 
that  verse  in  Acts  iv.,  "  Neither  said  any  of  them  that 

*  The  family  plate  and  the  maids'  hoops  were  at  the  same  time 
buried  under  the  mangers. 


CHILDHOOD. 


aught  of  the  things  which  he  possessed  was  his  own,  but 
they  had  all  things  common."  It  was  such  a  spirit  as  this 
which  was  long  manifested  in  the  domestic  circle  at  Toft — 
what  was  for  the  good  and  enjoyment  of  one,  was  also  for  the 
others  ;  for  all,  meum  and  tuum  was  tuum  and  meum  also. 

Oswald  Leycester  had  married  Miss  Mary  Johnson,  of 
Timperley;  and  at  Toft,  in  the  family  home  of  many 
generations,  his  four  children  were  bom  :  Catherine, 
April  15,  1791  ;  Edward,  Sept.  16,  1794;  Charles,  March 
10,  1796;  and  Maria,  Nov.  22,  1798. 

Among  the  notes  which  my  mother  has  left  concerning 
her  childhood  are  the  following : — 

"  When  I  (Maria  Leycester)  was  born,  my  grandmother 
Leycester  was  still  living,  and  the  earliest  record  of  my 
existence  was  a  quaint  Cheshire  saying  of  hers  on  first 
seeing  the  new-born  babe — '  Well,  she  is  hearty  fow  (very 
ugly),  to  be  sure.'  She  died  in  the  following  February,  at 
the  age  of  ninety. 

"  My  uncle  George,  with  whom  we  lived,  loved  to  play 
with  me,  and  used  to  put  me  on  the  chimney-piece,  and 
then  laughed  at  my  terror.  When  my  nurse  Sally  was 
ordered  to  take  me  away,  because  I  cried  at  the  sight  of 
visitors,  he  would  say,  '  Let  them  see  her  cry,  for  they  have 
seen  her  laugh  often  enough ;'  and  his  question  of  '  why  are 
your  eyes  so  dirty,  Maria  ? '  was  one  which  I  fully  believed  to 
be  founded  on  fact,  and  not  on  the  brown  colour  of  my  eyes. 

"The  earliest  recollections  of  my  childhood  centre 
around  my  mother  and  my  nurse  Sally.  '  The  days  of  ray 
years  are  now  threescore  and  ten,'  but  I  remember  them 
both  perfectly.  I  have  been  told  that  in  her  earlier  days 
my  mother  was  very  pretty,  with  a  very  delicate  colour  in 


MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


her  checks.  My  recollection  of  her  is  as  ve.y  pale,  with 
light  blue  eyes,  rather  a  long  upper  lip,  and  brown  curls  in 
'  a  front ' — as  her  own  hair  was  shorn  close,  and  she  wore  a 
turban  of  white  muslin,  and  a  clear  white  muslin  handker- 
chief in  folds  under  her  gown.  She  taught  me  in  all  my 
lessons  except  French,  but  her  weak  health  and  bad  head- 
aches often  prevented  her  hearing  me,  and  many  a  time  I 
had  to  stand  outside  her  door  waiting  till  I  could  be  heard, 
which  fretted  me  a  good  deal.  When  the  lessons  went 
ill,  I  was  sentenced  to  sit  on  the  staircase  till  I  was  good, 
and  the  task  perfect.  I  imagine  that  though  my  mother 
was  most  gentle,  she  was  firm  in  her  management  of  me. 
In  after  years,  her  successor,  Mrs.  Oswald  Leycester,  used 
to  say  that  when  she  had  suggested  my  doing  something 
because  it  would  be  pleasant,  my  mother  appealed  to  me, 
'  I  think  my  little  girl  has  a  better  motive  for  it ;  what  is  it, 
Mia  ? '  and,  '  Because  it  is  right]  was  my  reply. 

"  My  nurse  was  as  passionately  fond  of  me  as  I  was  of 
her.  Many  years  after,  when  she  had  married,  and  had  a 
little  boy  of  her  own,  she  said,  '  Oh,  Miss  Maria,  I  think  I 
am  beginning  to  love  him  almost  as  much  as  I  did  you.' 
She  had  been  very  well  trained,  for  she  had  lived  as  a  girl 
with  my  aunt  J.  at  Wilmslow,  who  was  so  strict  with  her 
servants  that  she  kept  a  pincushion  on  which  she  stuck  a  pin 
for  every  fault  they  committed,  as  a  reminder.  With  this, 
my  loving  nurse,  how  well  I  remember  the  delight  of  our 
walks,  on  spring  evenings,  into  the  Toft  fields,  to  see  the 
young  lambs  and  to  pick  spring  flowers.  We  had  also  our 
gardens  in  the  wood,  and  my  brother  Edward  had  a  project 
of  digging  through  the  earth  to  the  other  side  of  the  world, 
which  gave  us  unfailing  occupation.  He  and  Charles  went 
to  school  at  Warrington  before  they  went  to  Eton  and 
Rugby.  Their  holidays  were  a  joyful  time  to  me,  and 
Edward  used  to  amuse  me  by  taking  me  on  his  knee  and 


CHILDHOOD. 


telling  me  stories  of  Sinbad  and  Ali  Baba.  The  family 
habit  was  to  dine  at  three,  and  to  have  a  hot  supper  at 
nine  ;  and  on  a  Sunday  evening,  when  my  brothers  were  at 
home,  we  were  allowed  to  sit  up  to  this  supper,  having  first 
been  made  to  repeat  the  Church  Catechism.  When  Edward 
repeated  the  explanation  he  had  learnt  at  school,  and  ended 
that  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  by  calling  its  close  the  '  Dox- 
ology,'  we  looked  upon  him  as  a  model  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge.  On  these  Sunday  evenings  also,  when  my 
sister  Kitty  was  at  home,  she  played  a  sonata  of  Haydn  or 
Mozart  for  uncle  George's  amusement.  This  she  did  with 
great  spirit  and  execution,  and  she  taught  me,  though  I  shed 
many  tears  over  her  lessons. 

"  My  stock  of  childish  literature  was  limited  to  a  very 
few  books.  '  Juvenile  Travellers,'  '  The  Robins '  (by 
Mrs.  Trimmer),  '  Evenings  at  Home,'  '  Perambulations  of 
a  Mouse,'  '  Dick  the  Little  Pony,'  '  Jemima  Placid,'  and 
Mrs.  Trimmer's  Old  and  New  Testament  abridgments, 
with  her  Roman  and  Grecian  histories,  were  our  whole 
library,  till,  by  the  recommendation  of  some  one,  my 
mother  procured  me  '  Goldsmith's  Geography,'  '  Scripture 
Biography,'  '  Sacred  Dialogues,'  and  the  '  Parent's  Assistant/ 
which  last  I  esteemed  a  perfect  treasure,  and  read  and  re-read. 

"  My  great  delight  was  to  go  to  Alderley  Park  and  play 
with  the  '  Miss  Stanleys ' ;  and  it  was  a  joy  when,  standing 
by  the  breakfast-table,  I  heard  it  settled  that  the  carriage 
was  to  be  ordered  to  'go  to  Alderley,  and  that  I  was  to  be 
of  the  party.  In  these  visits  to  Alderley,  one  great  source 
of  pleasure  was  in  the  children's  books  which  were  lent  me, 
of  which  '  Tales  of  the  Genii,'  and  such  like,  were  the  most 
attractive.  When  my  little  friends  returned  my  visits,  we 
had  tea  under  the  trees  opposite  the  book-room,  and  hide- 
and-seek  followed. 

"  Another  happiness  of  my  childhood  was  derived  from 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


the  visits  of  the  Ralph  Leycesters,  who  came  to  Toft  every 
alternate  year.  Charlotte  Leycester  and  I  were  inseparable, 
and  for  the  day  before  they  went  away  our  grief  was  un- 
controllable. I  remember  vividly  the  misery  of  the  dreary 
winter's  morning,  when  little  Charlotte  came  in  before  day- 
light to  give  me  a  last  kiss  and  say  good-bye,  before  another 
two  years'  separation, — and  the  sad  day  that  followed.  We 
slept  in  the  same  room,  and  many  talks  we  had  after  we  had 
lain  down,  ending  sometimes  with  the  request,  '  When  you 
are  asleep,  tell  me.' 

"  I  had  another  young  companion  in  the  orphan  child  of 
my  mother's  sister,  Mrs.  Bower,  who,  on  the  death  of  her 
father,  came  to  live  with  my  mother ;  but  she  was  less  con- 
genial to  me,  and  I  was  not  sorry  when  she  was  sent  to  live 
under  Mrs.  Butler's  care,  by  the  seaside,  where  she  died 
before  she  was  grown  up. 

"  One  of  my  father's  sisters  having  married  a  brother  of 
Lord  Stamford,  a  great  intimacy  was  carried  on  between 
the  two  families,  so  that  we  were  very  intimate  with  Lord 
Stamford's  daughters — the  Ladies  Charlotte,  Maria,  and 
Jane  Grey,  of  whom  the  two  elder  were  about  my  age. 
One  of  our  amusements  was  to  change  our  designations. 
The  Ladies  Grey  thought  it  as  charming  to  be  called 
'  Miss,'  as  we  did  to  be  styled  *  Lady,'  and  we  thus  always 
transferred  our  titles  in  our  plays. 

"  The  dress  of  those  days  was  very  different  to  that 
which  children  have  now.  My  white  frocks  were  of  lawn 
or  Irish  cloth,  without  any  work  or  ornament ;  and,  when  I 
went  out,  I  used  to  wear  a  little  green-baize  coat.  My  food 
also  was  of  the  simplest  kind,  consisting  principally  of 
buttermilk  and  potatoes. 

"  The  church  at  Knutsford  which  we  attended,  and  of 
which  my  father  was  vicar,  was  very  large  and  very  ugly. 
The  most  striking  remembrance  that  I  retain  of  that  church 


CHILDHOOD. 


is  of  the  Sunday  after  the  news  of  Nelson's  death,  when 
every  one  appeared  in  the  appointed  mourning,  with  scarlet 
and  black  ribbons. 

"  Great  events  in  the  annals  of  our  Toft  life  were  the 
periodical  visits  of  my  father's  cousin,  Lady  Penrhyn,  who 
was  prepared  for  as  if  she  had  been  the  queen ;  and  she 
arrived  with  six  horses,  and  always  drove  to  church  with 
this  state.  Having  no  children  herself,  she  had  no  love  for 
them,  and  in  her  visits  we  were  always  kept  out  of  the 
way ;  but  I  amused  myself  by  imitating  her  pomposity,  and 
strutting  about  saying,  '  Now  I  am  milady  Penrhyn.' 

"When  my  sister  returned  from  school,  in  1806,  she 
began  to  educate  herself,  and  a  little  dressing-room  out  of 
our  bedroom  was  furnished  with  a  bookcase  and  bureau, 
where  she  read  and  wrote ;  and,  in  imitation  of  her,  I  also 
set  up  a  little  table  with  my  books  and  writing  things,  where 
I  prepared  my  lessons,  which  she  taught  me  from  that  time. 

"In  1809  my  sister  accompanied  Mrs.  Stanley  (aftenvards 
Lady  Maria)  to  London,  and  I  was  then  sent  to  a  small 
school  kept  by  Mrs.  Butler,  a  widow  lady,  who  had  been 
governess  to  the  Alderley  children.  She  lived  at  Leighton 
Cottage,  a  pretty  picturesque  house,  near  Parkgate,  and 
situated  in  a  lane  leading  up  from  the  sea-beach  to  some 
fields  and  a  barn,  which  was  the  scene  of  our  plays.  Along 
the  side  of  this  lane  flowed  a  clear  brook,  and  there  I 
first  learnt  my  love  of  wild  flowers, — cranesbill,  speedwell, 
and  forget-me-nots.  Two  of  the  Stanleys  were  my  companions 
here,  and  many  other  girls.  We  were  all  devoted  to  Mrs. 
Butler,  who  wished  us  all  to  be  like  her  own  children,  and 
we  thought  it  the  highest  privilege  when  our  turn  came  for 
a  walk  with  her,  or  to  have  a  private  talk  in  her  room. 

"In  1806  my  father's  old  college  friend,  Sir  Corbet  Corbet, 
had  presented  him  to  the  living  of  Stoke-upon-Terne,  but  we 
only  passed  the  summer  months  there  for  the  first  two  years, 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 


when  my  uncle  George  always  accompanied  us.  This  dear 
uncle  of  my  childhood  used  to  say  that  he  did  not  see  why 
we  should  pray  against  '  sudden  death,'  he  thought  it  so 
desirable  to  avoid  a  long  illness,  and  in  1809  he  was  found 
dead  in  his  bed  at  Cheltenham,  whither  he  had  gone  for  his 
health.  Upon  this,  my  father  resigned  the  living  of  Knuts- 
ford,  and  we  went  to  live  altogether  at  Stoke,  and  my  uncle 
Ralph  Leycester,  with  his  children  and  grandchildren,  came 
to  reside  at  Toft. 

"On  the  8th  of  May,  1810,  my  sister  was  married  in 
Stoke  Church  to  Edward  Stanley,  Rector  of  Alderley. 
Upon  her  marriage  I  left  Leighton  Cottage,  and  until  my 
mother's  death  I  remained  at  home.  My  father  gave  me 
lessons  in — it  must  be  confessed — bad  French  and  Italian, 
but  it  was  my  sister  who  still  directed  my  studies  by  letter, 
constantly  sending  me  questions  on  the  books  which  I  read, 
and  expecting  me  to  write  her  the  answers.  In  this  way  I 
in  a  certain  sense  conducted  my  own  education,  and  much 
did  I  enjoy  these  studies.  Sometimes  they  were  carried  on 
in  a  little  bathing-house  on  an  island  in  the  river  Terne, 
which  had  been  given  to  me  as  a  possession  to  plant  as  I 
liked  with  primroses,  violets,  and  snowdrops,  and  which 
was  a  great  delight. 

"  Edward  Stanley  was  to  me  the  kindest  of  brothers,  and 
great  was  the  amusement  he  gave  by  the  playful  verses  he 
wrote  to  please  me,  especially  those  on  the  death  of  one  of 
my  black  bantams.  These  bantams  were  given  to  me  by 
Lady  Corbet,  and  were  fed  after  breakfast  from  the  dining- 
room  windows :  it  was  the  time  when  Bonaparte's  name 
was  held  up  in  terror  to  every  one,  so  that  when  two  of  the 
cocks  fought  the  hens,  they  were  named  Bonaparte  and  the 
King  of  Rome. 

"  A  rival  with  Edward  Stanley  in  my  affections,  as  well 
as  in  his  fun  and  humour,  was  my  dear  uncle,  Hugh 


CHILDHOOD. 


Leycester.  He  was,  both  with  his  brothers  and  nieces,  the 
great  favourite  of  the  family — his  knowledge  and  kindness, 
his  generosity  and  affection,  his  wit  and  anecdotes,  alike 
conducing  to  render  him  beloved.  The  only  fault  which 
people  could  find  in  him  was  his  violent  political  zeal  and 
Tory  partisanship,  which  made  him  intolerant  of  any  oppo- 
sition on  these  subjects.  He  had  been  an  intimate  personal 
friend  both  of  Pitt  and  Perceval,  and  the  sudden  death  of  the 
latter  was  a  great  grief  to  him.  In  the  later  years  of  his 
life  he  was  quite  deaf,  and  we  could  only  communicate 
with  him  by  writing  on  a  slate ;  but  he  continued  his  lively 
interest  in  us  all,  and  after  they  were  too  infirm  to  meet,  he 
kept  up  a  witty  daily  correspondence  with  his  old  friend, 
Mr.  Jekyll,  who  was  his  next  neighbour  in  New  Street, 
Spring  Gardens. 

"  Another  constant  visitor  at  Stoke  was  our  dear  cousin, 
Eliza  White,  who  often  passed  many  months  with  us  at  a 
time,  and  who  always  made  herself  most  pleasant  to  us  all. 
Often  did  I  sit  on  a  little  stool  at  her  feet,  pouring  out  all 
my  childish  joys  and  sorrows,  and  receiving  her  counsel. 

"As  I  had  no  companion,  I  always  accompanied  my 
parents  in  their  visits.  Those  to  Sir  Corbet  Corbet,  at 
Adderley,  were  always  a  great  pleasure.  Lady  Corbet  was 
most  amusing.  Every  morning  after  breakfast  she  put  on 
a  gardening  dress,  and  with  a  bunch  of  keys,  knife,  &c.,  at 
her  side,  sallied  forth  to  make  the  round  of  her  stable  yard, 
poultry  yard,  pigstyes,  and  gardens,  and  I  thought  it  a  great 
treat  to  go  with  her.  Then  in  the  evening  she  would  read 
to  us  out  of  her  Italian  journals,  and  my  first  longings  to 
see  Rome  came  from  this  source.  The  house  was  filled  with 
pictures  by  old  masters,  and  over  the  drawing-room  chimney- 
piece  was  a  very  beautiful  bas-relief  of  the  Nine  Muses.  The 
only  drawback  to  the  pleasure  of  Adderley  lay  in  the  early 
dinners  at  three  o'clock,  and  Sir  Corbet's  impatience  of  any 


10 


unpunctuality ;  when  he  was  fidgety,  Lady  Corbet  used  to 
call  him  '  Sir  Crab.' 

"  The  autumn  of  1811,  which  was  one  of  several  we  spent 
at  Penrhyn  Castle,  was  most  delightful,  as  Edward  and  I 
enjoyed  it  together,  riding  on  Welsh  ponies  to  the  different 
mountains  and  waterfalls,  How  enchanting  were  the  morn- 
ing walks  to  the  bathing-house ;  how  pleasant  the  picnic 
expeditions  to  Ogwen  Bank,  with  its  waterfalls  and  garden 
seats  shaped  like  mushrooms  !  Then  also  there  were  visits 
to  the  slate  quarries,  and  the  sight  of  all  the  different  kinds 
of  slate,  called  '  Duchesses,  Countesses,'  &c.  In  the  after- 
noons, after  dinner,  we  used  to  walk  to  Pennysinnant,  an 
ornamented  farmhouse,  to  see  the  poultry  yard,  on  which 
occasions  I  gave  great  offence  to  Lady  Penrhyn,  by  admiring 
the  sight  of  the  mountains  more  than  her  poultry,  and  she 
used  to  complain  of  it  to  my  mother.  She  was  very  formal 
and  stately,  and  we  were  greatly  afraid  of  her,  and  many  a 
hard  gallop  home  did  Edward  and  I  have  upon  our  ponies, 
to  be  in  time  for  the  early  dinner,  for  fear  of  the  scolding 
which  should  await  us.  Lady  Penrhyn  had  three  pugs,  very 
ugly,  and  always  dressed  in  little  scarlet  bonnets  and  cloaks. 
When  she  was  in  London,  in  her  house  in  Grosvenor 
Square,  they  used  to  be  taken  out  thus  attired  to  walk  in  the 
square,  with  a  footman  to  attend  them.  She  left  them  each 
an  annuity  when  she  died,  and  they  lived  an  immense  time. 
Once,  in  Lord  Penrhyn's  time,  when  she  and  Lord  P.  were 
driving  in  their  coach  and  six,  through  the  streets  of  North- 
wich,  the  pugs  were  looking  out  of  the  windows,  and  the  by- 
standers, mistaking  their  species,  exclaimed,  '  Eh !  milord  and 
milady  are  mighty  fine,  but  their  children  are  hearty  fo\v.' 

"  On  our  way  to  and  from  Penrhyn  Castle,  we  used  to 
visit  the  Ladies  of  Llangollen.  They  were  dressed  in  men's 
hats  and  cloth  habits,  with  powdered  hair.  Lady  Eleanor 
Butler  was  short  and  fat,  but  Miss  Ponsonby  was  tall  and 


CHILDHOOD. 


thin,  and  used  often  to  be  supposed  to  be  a  man  in  disguise. 
They  had  a  romantic  attachment  for  each  other,  and  had 
forsaken  their  own  family  to  be  more  entirely  together,  but 
though  professing  to  lead  a  recluse  life,  few  people  could 
see  more  of  the  world,  and  their  correspondence  was  with 
royalties  and  nobility  of  all  nations.  Their  cottage  was 
filled  with  oggetti  of  every  kind,  chiefly  presents  they  had 
received,  and  it  had  coloured  glass  windows  and  carved  oak 
furniture.  It  was  they  who  first  told  Lady  Penrhyn  that  my 
handsome  brother  Edward  was  like  her,  and  it  is  said  they  thus 
gave  her  the  first  idea  of  making  him  her  heir ;  but  I  believe 
that  which  really  made  her  do  so  was  her  amusement  when 
her  young  cousin  in  riding  home  had  not  enough  money  left 
to  pay  a  turnpike  gate,  and  was  obliged  to  leave  his  hand- 
kerchief in  pawn  with  the  toll-collector. 

"  In  July,  1812,  my  dear  mother  had  a  paralytic  stroke. 
Though  the  immediate  danger  was  averted,  she  was  unable 
to  do  anything,  or  to  speak  clearly  from  that  time.  Every 
night  I  used  to  read  to  her,  and  kneel  by  her  bedside  to 
pray  before  going  to  bed.  She  had  gradually  been  regain- 
ing her  lost  powers,  could  read  a  few  lines,  and  had  begun 
to  knit  some  socks  for  her  little  grandchild,  Owen  Stanley, 
when,  on  October  12,  we  were  waked  in  the  night  by  her 
having  another  seizure,  and  on  the  following  afternoon  her 
spirit  passed  away.  It  was  my  first  affliction,  and  a  very 
great  one.  On  the  day  of  her  burial,  I  saw  the  procession 
from  my  bedroom  window,  and  realised  the  lines  which  I 
had  long  been  familiar  with  in  Cowper's  Poem  on  his 
mother's  picture : — 

'  I  heard  the  bell  tolled  on  thy  burial  day, 
I  saw  the  hearse  that  bore  thee  slow  away,'  &c. 

My  brothers  were  my  chief  comforters,  and  we  all  tried  to 
soothe  our  father's  grief. 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


"  I  do  not  remember  ever  hearing  the  slightest  cross  or 
angry  word  pass  my  mother's  lips.  She  preferred  every- 
body's opinion  before  her  own,  and  thought  no  good  office 
too  trivial  for  her  performance.  She  seemed  only  able  to 
see  the  good  in  others,  and  was  ever  willing  to  make  allow- 
ance for  their  faults.  To  the  poor  she  was  most  kind  and 
charitable,  working  for  them  herself  with  the  greatest  dili- 
gence, and  assisting  them  in  every  way.  To  those  who 
had  displeased  her  she  was  always  forgiving,  and  she  never 
would  show  any  impatience  against  them,  but  would  reprove 
them  mildly  and  gently,  and  during  her  illness  she  was 
always  satisfied  and  grateful  for  all  that  was  done  for  her. 
My  brother  Edward  wrote  some  lines  after  her  death, 
which  I  will  insert  here  : — 

'  If  filial  love  could  animate  the  clay, 
Or  bid  the  flitting  soul  resume  its  sway, 
Say,  could  I  wish  reversed  the  mournful  dojm 
Which  kid  my  mother  in  the  silent  tomb  ? 
No ;  while  with  moistened  cheek  and  downcast  eye 
I  heave  in  selfish  grief  the  bitter  sigh, 
Still  let  me  own  that  lenient  was  the  blow 
Which  put  the  period  to  a  mother's  woe, 
Which  bid  disease  and  pain  for  ever  cease, 
And  whispered,  e'en  in  death,  eternal  peace.'" 

Her  mother's  death  was  perhaps  the  first  event  which  led 
Maria  Leycester,  young  as  she  was,  to  seek  the  highest 
source  of  comfort,  and  to  endeavour  to  make  her  life  useful 
and  helpful  to  others.  An  old  yellow  fragment  of  paper 
still  exists  on  which  she  poured  forth  her  soul  in  prayer  in 
the  first  burst  of  sorrow. 

"  Oct.  14,  1812. — Oh  !  most  holy  and  merciful  God,  now 
in  this  time  of  affliction  I  call  unto  thee.  Oh !  forsake 


CHILDHOOD. 


me  not — give  me  strength  and  fortitude  to  bear  this  great 
trial  with  resignation  to  thy  divine  will.  Oh !  comfort  and 
support  my  afflicted  parent  and  his  motherless  children  ; 
make  us  sensible  of  the  justice  and  wisdom  of  all  thy 
decrees  ;  and  in  thinking  of  and  admiring  her  virtues,  may 
we  endeavour  to  imitate  them,  and  become,  as  we  hope 
and  trust  she  is,  partakers  of  thy  everlasting  kingdom.  Oh ! 
enable  me  to  be  a  support  and  blessing  to  my  dear  father, 
may  I  make  it  the  business  of  my  life  to  console  and  com- 
fort him,  and  may  I  never  give  myself  up  to  my  own  selfish 
pleasures,  but  consider  him  in  all  my  actions.  I  am  de- 
prived of  the  dear  and  excellent  mother  who  has  been  the 
guide  and  protector  of  my  youth.  Oh !  may  I  always  act 
as  she  would  wish  me  to  do  if  she  were  present,  and  may  I 
look  for  that  motherly  protection  (of  which  I  am  bereft  here 
on  earth)  to  my  heavenly  Father.  Direct  and  guide  my 
steps  in  the  paths  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  make  me  sensible 
of  the  uncertainty  of  human  life,  and  grant  that  I  may  be 
prepared  for  death  whenever  it  shall  arrive.  'The  Lord 
gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord' — 'Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven.'  Amen." 

From  the  many  letters  which  were  written  by  Mrs. 
Stanley  for  the  instruction  of  her  young  sister,  the  insertion 
of  the  following  may  not  be  deemed  superfluous : — 

C.  S.  to  M.  L. 

"  July  28,  1809. — The  first  and  great  object  of  your  read- 
ing should  be  to  improve  your  own  knowledge,  and  thereby 
enlarge  your  mind  and  give  you  a  guide  in  the  most  im- 
portant duties  of  life,  by  furnishing  you  with  the  opinions 
and  examples  of  others,  and  by  enabling  you  to  form 
opinions  for  yourself.  When  you  sit  down  to  your  book, 


14  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

then,  consider  that  you  are  not  taking  it  up  to  amuse  and 
pass  away  the  present  hour,  but  to  give  you  some  informa- 
tion you  have  not  had  before,  to  acquire  some  new  ideas, 
or  perhaps  to  see  some  of  your  own  ideas  put  in  a  better 
form  than  you  would  have  been  able  to  put  them  yourself. 
'  There  are  many  who  read  with  constancy  and  diligence, 
and  yet  make  no  true  advancement  in  knowledge.  They 
are  deluded  with  the  notions  and  things  they  read  of  as 
they  would  be  with  stories  that  are  told,  but  they  make  no 
observations  upon  them,  learn  nothing  from  them,  their 
eyes  glide  over  the  pages  or  the  words  over  their  ears,  like 
the  shadows  of  a  cloud  flying  over  a  green  field  in  a  sum- 
mer's day.'  If,  when  you  have  shut  your  book,  you  have 
also  shut  your  mind ;  if  you  never  call  yourself  to  account 
for  what  you  have  been  reading  and  learning,  if  you  skim 
over  the  pages  and  read  only  those  parts  which  can  amuse 
or  divert  your  mind  at  the  time,  without  bestowing  one 
thought  upon  it  afterwards,  though  you  read  every  day  and 
all  day,  you  will  have  made  no  improvement  in  any  way, 
and  would  have  been  doing  almost  as  much  in  counting  the 
grains  of  sand  upon  the  sea-shore  could  that  have  been  any 
amusement  to  you,  though  you  would  probably  be  shocked 
at  the  idea  of  so  wasting  your  time.  Books  of  amusement 
— mere  amusement — are  naturally  pleasing  and  alluring  at 
your  age,  and  indeed  at  any  age,  and,  with  a  disposition 
and  desire  to  improve  as  well  as  amuse  yourself,  there  is 
no  book  of  mere  amusement,  unless  it  be  very  silly  indeed, 
from  which  you  may  not  gain  something ;  and,  even  in  a 
silly  book,  you  may  exercise  your  judgment  by  finding  out 
what  is  foolish,  and  how  it  would  have  been  better  other- 
wise. What  I  mean  to  impress  upon  your  mind  is  that  you 
are  not  to  fancy  yourself  fond  of  improving  yourself  merely 
because  you  are  fond  of  reading,  for  reading,  without  obser- 
vation while  you  are  reading,  and  reflection  afterwards  upon 


CHILDHOOD.  15 


what  you  have  read,  is,  as  I  have  said  before,  little  better 
than  loss  of  time. 

"  I  wish  you  to  write  down  your  observations  and  re- 
marks upon  every  book  you  read,  of  whatever  kind  it  is,  in 
your  MS.  book.  Put  down  in  it  the  pages  which  have 
particularly  pleased  or  interested  you,  or  those  which  have 
given  you  any  new  ideas,  if  you  think  the  subject  sufficiently 
important  to  be  remembered  and  fully  understood,  which 
a  little  consideration  will  soon  enable  you  to  judge  of; — 
give  a  short  account  of  the  contents  of  the  book,  or  the 
contents  of  any  part  of  it  which  you  have  especially  liked. 
Any  book  that  is  worth  your  reading  is  worth  these  pains, 
for  your  own  experience  will  tell  you  that  you  have  but  a 
faint  recollection  of  the  books  you  read  a  year,  or  even  half 
a  year  ago, — at  least,  if  you  were  called  upon  to  give  an 
opinion  about  them,  and  point  out  any  parts  you  liked  or 
disliked,  though  you  might  have  a  general  idea  of  whether 
the  book  on  the  whole  pleased  you,  and  of  the  general 
nature  of  its  contents,  its  details  will  completely  have  faded 
from  your  remembrance,  and  you  would  be  unable  to  give 
any  opinion  concerning  it,  or  to  recall  any  observations 
which  occurred  to  you  while  reading  it.  What  I  have  been 
recommending  to  you  will  obviate  this  entirely;  you  will 
have  your  opinions  of  books  in  their  first  clearness  and 
freshness  to  refer  to,  besides  having  them  more  deeply  im- 
printed on  your  memory  by  the  very  act  of  writing  them 
down  and  thinking  about  them  more  than  you  would  other- 
wise have  done. 

"  You  are  now  in  a  progressive  state  of  improvement ; 
every  year  makes  a  more  sensible  and  perceptible  difference 
in  your  powers  of  mind  now  than  perhaps  it  will  do  some 
few  years  hence;  if  you  would  look  back  even  into  the 
last  year  of  your  life,  into  all  your  feelings  and  thoughts  for 
one  day,  you  would  probably  be  surprised  to  find  them  so 


16  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

different  from  what  they  are  now,  and  you  would  wonder 
what  pleasure  you  could  take  in  things  which  then  appeared 
to  you  the  height  of  happiness,  and  how  you  could  be  so 
stupid  as  to  find  no  pleasure  in  things  you  now  delight  in. 
And  in  future  years,  when  you  look  back  upon  your  present 
enjoyments,  you  will  be  able  more  accurately  to  estimate 
your  advance  in  knowledge,  &c.,  by  having  a  few  of  the 
remarks  and  ideas  of  different  periods  of  life  to  refer  to,  than 
by  any  other  means  I  can  think  of.  Do  not  let  your  obser- 
vations be  confined  to  the  things  you  particularly  like;  mark 
also  those  passages  you  do  not  understand,  either  to  have 
them  explained  by  some  abler  head  than  your  own,  or  that 
you  may  explain  them  yourself  to  yourself  at  some  more 
advanced  period  of  knowledge.  A  few  books  read  in  this 
way,  I  need  hardly  tell  you,  will  be  of  more  service  than  a 
whole  library  swallowed  as  children  usually  swallow  books 
— whole,  without  either  chewing  or  digesting  them,  so  as  to 
render  them  serviceable  to  the  general  welfare  of  the  mind. 
You  are  not  too  young  to  begin  this,  because  the  moment 
you  can  know  and  feel  that  you  have  a  mind  capable  of 
improvement,  it  becomes  your  duty  to  improve  it  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  that  capability."  .... 

In  the  spring  following  her  mother's  death,  Maria 
Leycester  paid  her  first  visit,  with  her  cousins,  the  Ralph 
Leycesters,  to  London,  where  she  had  the  benefit  of  masters. 
After  the  summer  holidays,  she  returned  for  a  time  to  the 
care  of  Mrs.  Butler,  but  came  to  live  at  home  again  upon 
her  father's  second  marriage,  in  June,  1814,  to  Eliza  White, 
the  beloved  cousin  of  his  first  wife.  The  news  of  his  en- 
gagement was  a  source  of  unmixed  joy  to  his  daughter 
Maria,  to  whom  the  friend  of  her  childhood  became  thus  a 
constant  companion  ;  and  her  warm  reception  of  her  step- 


CHILDHOOD.  17 


mother  was  never  forgotten  by  Mrs.  Oswald  Leycester,  who, 
while  fulfilling  to  the  utmost  a  mother's  duties  towards  all 
her  husband's  children,  reserved  the  principal  warmth  of  her 
affection  for  his  youngest  daughter. 

Miss  WHITE  to  M.  L. 

"  May  27,  1814. — You  have  gratified  every  feeling  of  my 
heart,  my  dear  Maria,  by  your  reception  of  the  news  of  our 
future  relationship,  and  I  would  not  even  have  dispensed 
with  your  tears  on  the  occasion.  They  were  a  just  and 
feeling  tribute  of  affection  to  the  memory  of  her  who  so 
well  deserved  our  love,  and  whose  example  will,  I  trust, 
through  life,  have  an  influence  over  both  your  character 
and  mine.  With  my  best  ability  I  will  strive  to  be  what  she 
was  both  to  your  father  and  her  children — most  particularly 
to  you  and  Charles,  as  the  only  two  about  whom  she  was 
wont  to  express  anxiety. 

"  On  the  1 4th  of  next  month  the  gig  will  be  sent  to 
fetch  you  to  Stoke,  where  I  hope  you  will  be  in  readiness 
to  receive  me  on  the  27th.  I  have  been  so  accustomed  to 
see  there  so  many  dear  faces  brighten  up  on  my  arrival,  so 
many  kind  hands  extended  to  welcome  me,  that  I  confess 
I  sickened  at  the  thought  of  taking  possession  only  of  empty 
apartments.  My  dear  Maria  will  in  that  moment  seem  all 
the  world  to  me,  for  she  will  appear  to  me  as  the  dear 
representative  of  her  most  dear  mother.  .  .  I  wish  you  to 
be  to  me  only  what  you  have  been  ever  since  you  could 
distinguish  right  from  wrong.  -The  terms  'authority'  and 
'obedience'  must  not  be  known  or  felt  among  us  ;  we  must 
live  together  as  persons  united  for  life  in  the  bonds  of  mutual 
affection  and  social  interest,  each  seeking  to  live  for  the 
happiness  of  the  other,  and  striving  to  banish  every  selfish 
consideration  .  .  .  God  bless  you,  my  own  little  Maria." 

VOL.  I. 


II. 

STOKE,  ALDERLEY,  AND  HODNET. 

«'  La  jeunesse  devait  etre  une  caisse  d'epargne." 

MADAME  SWETCHINE. 

"  This  life  which  seems  so  fair, 

Is  like  a  bubble  blown  up  in  the  air, 

By  sporting  children's  breath, 

Who  chase  it  everywhere, 
And  strive  who  can  most  motion  it  bequeath." 

WILLIAM  DRUMMOND,  1585 — 1649. 

HPHE  great  interest  and  pleasure  of  my  mother's  early 
home  life  came  from  Hodnet,  two  miles  from  her 
father's  rectory,  where  Reginald  Heber  held  the  living. 
Her  first  acquaintance  with  the  Hebers  began  through  her 
constantly  walking  across  the  heath  from  Stoke  to  the  after- 
noon Sunday  service,  to  hear  him  preach.  From  frequently 
seeing  her  at  church,  the  Reginald  Hebers  began  to  invite 
her  to  pass  Sunday  with  them ;  and  the  intimacy  thus  engen- 
dered increased  till  scarcely  a  day  passed,  part  of  which 
was  not  spent  at  Hodnet — Maria  Leycester  joining  the 
Hebers  in  their  afternoon  rides  through  the  delightful 
glades  of  Hawkestone,  and  remaining  to  dinner ;  while,  in 
the  evenings,  Mr.  Heber  would  read  aloud,  poetry,  or 
Walter  Scott's  newly  published  novels,  "  Waverley,"  "  Guy 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  19 

Mannering,"  and  "  Ivanhoe,"  which,  for  several  years,  while 
their  authorship  remained  a  mystery,  were  generally  attri- 
buted to  Richard  Heber,  the  rector's  elder  brother.  In 
1817,  Miss  Leycester  spent  her  mornings  also  at  Hodnet, 
where,  when  she  wished  to  learn  German  in  preparation  for 
a  foreign  tour,  Mr.  Heber  offered  to  become  her  instructor. 
At  the  same  time,  he  frequently  wrote  songs  to  suit  her 
music,  as  he  greatly  delighted  in  her  playing  and  singing. 
His  little  poem,  "  I  see  them  on  their  Winding  Way,"  was 
written  thus  in  October,  1820. 

Nor  was  it  only  by  lessons  in  literature  that  Reginald 
Heber  instructed  his  pupil.  No  one  could  live  constantly 
within  the  influence  of  his  cheerful  active  life,  devoted, 
either  at  home  or  amongst  his  parishioners,  to  the  good  of 
others,  yet  with  the  most  entire  unostentation,  without 
praying  that  his  mantle  might  fall  upon  them.  "  In  no 
scene  of  his  life,  perhaps,"  wrote  Mr.  Blunt,  "did  his 
character  appear  in  greater  beauty  than  while  he  was  living 
here,  '  seeing  God's  blessings  spring  out  of  his  mother  earth, 
and  eating  his  own  bread  in  peace  and  privacy.'  His 
talents  might  have  made  him  proud,  but  he  was  humble- 
minded  as  a  child — eager  to  call  forth  the  intellectual  stores 
of  others,  rather  than  to  display  his  own, — arguing  without 
dogmatism,  and  convincing  without  triumph, — equally  willing 
to  reason  with  the  wise,  or  to  take  a  share  in  the  innocent 
gaieties  of  a  winter's  fireside ;  for  it  was  no  part  of  his  creed 
that  all  innocent  mirth  ought  to  be  banished  from  the  pur- 
lieus of  a  good  man's  dwelling ;  or  that  he  is  called  upon  to 
abstract  himself  from  the  refinements  and  civilities  of  life,  as 
if  sitting  to  Teniers  for  a  picture  of  the  Temptations  of  St. 


20  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Anthony.  The  attentions  he  received  might  have  made 
him  selfish,  but  his  own  inclination  was  ever  the  last  he  con- 
sulted ;  indeed,  of  all  the  features  in  his  character,  this  was, 
perhaps,  the  most  prominent — that  in  him  self  did  not  seem 
to  be  denied,  to  be  mortified,  but  to  be  forgotten.  His  love 
of  letters  might  have  made  him  an  inactive  parish  priest,  but 
he  was  daily  amongst  his  parishioners,  advising  them  in 
difficulties,  comforting  them  in  distress,  kneeling,  often  to 
the  hazard  of  his  own  life,  by  their  sick-beds;  exhorting, 
encouraging,  reproving  as  he  saw  need ;  when  there  was 
strife,  the  peacemaker;  when  there  was  want,  the  cheerful 
giver.  Yet,  in  all  this,  there  was  no  parade,  no  effort, 
apparently  not  the  smallest  consciousness  that  his  conduct 
differed  from  that  of  other  men — his  duty  seemed  to  be  his 
delight,  his  piety  an  instinct.  Many  a  good  deed  done  by 
him  in  secret  only  came  to  light  when  he  had  been  removed 
far  away,  and  but  for  that  removal  would  have  been  for 
ever  hid ;  many  an  instance  of  benevolent  interference 
when  it  was  least  suspected,  and  of  delicate  attention  to- 
wards those  whose  humble  rank  in  life  is  too  often  thought 
to  exempt  their  superiors  from  all  need  of  mingling  courtesy 
with  kindness.  That  he  was  sometimes  deceived  in  his 
favourable  estimate  of  mankind,  it  would  be  vain  to  deny ; 
such  a  guileless,  confiding,  unsuspicious  singleness  of  heart 
as  his,  cannot  always  be  proof  against  cunning.  But  if  he 
had  not  this  worldly  knowledge,  he  wanted  it  perhaps  in 
common  with  most  men  of  genius  and  virtue ;  the  '  wisdom 
of  the  serpent '  was  almost  the  only  wisdom  in  which  he  did 
not  abound."* 

*  Quarterly  Review,  1827. 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,   AND    HODNET.  21 

The  following  extracts  from  letters  give  some  glimpses  into 
Maria  Leycester's  home-life  during  these  years  of  her  youth : — 

M.  L.  to  Miss  HIBBERT. 

"  Oct.  1 8, 1816. — I  want  sadly  to  know  all  you  have  been 
doing  and  seeing  since  the  luckless  day  that  bore  me  away 
from  happy,  happy  Alderley.  I  only  permit  myself  as  a 
relaxation,  as  an  amusement,  to  think  of  the  six  happy  weeks 
at  Alderley,  when  I  have  been  very  industrious  .  .  in  short, 
you  do  not  know  the  pleasure  I  have  in  it. 

"  Part  of  last  week  we  spent  at  Adderley,  Sir  Corbet 
Corbet's — the  most  comfortable,  enjoyable  house  imaginable, 
and  Lady  Corbet  the  most  agreeable  woman,  with  a  con- 
stant fund  of  anecdote  and  entertainment,  and  never-failing 
good  spirits,  which  are  surprising  at  her  age,  for  I  think  she 
is  above  seventy." 

"Nov.  22,  1816. — Did  you  ever  read  Foster's  'Essays.' 
E.  Stanley  gave  them  to  me  three  years  ago,  and  Kitty  re- 
commended me  to  delay  reading  them  for  some  time.  I 
scrupulously  followed  her  advice,  and  looked  at  them  with 
an  envious  eye  every  day  till  the  present  moment  arrived, 
when  I  thought,  that  as  a  recompense  for  being  eighteen,  I 
might  allow  myself  to  open  the  tantalizing  book.  Oh  that 
you  were  here,  that  I  might  show  you  passage  after  passage 
as  it  delights  me  ;  the  thoughts  are  sometimes  so  exceedingly 
ingenious,  the  sentiments  so  exactly  what  one  has  thought 
oneself  a  hundred  times,  without  being  able  to  clothe  them 
in  the  same  language." 

"May  24,  1817. — I  have  just  spent  two  delightful  days 
at  Hodnet  rectory.  Oh,  the  charms  of  a  rectory  inhabited 
by  a  Reginald  Heber,  or  an  Edward  Stanley  !  To  be  sure, 
splendour  and  luxury  sink  into  the  ground  before  such  real 

happiness I  do  not  think  I  ever  before  enjoyed  the 

beauties  of  nature  as  much  as  I  have  done  this  spring,  and 


22  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET  LIFE. 

you  cannot  imagine  how  interesting  my  solitary  rides  are 
made  by  the  varieties  of  light  and  shade — the  lightness  and 
elegance  of  the  newly  come-out  trees,  backed  by  magnifi- 
cent black  or  purple  clouds,  and  the  various  pretty  bits  that 
strike  my  fancy.  I  attribute  one  cause  of  my  increased 
pleasure  to  the  having  learnt  to  colour.  A  hundred  beautifully 
tinted  cottages,  or  trees,  or  mossy  rocks  which  I  never 
remarked  before,  now  give  me  much  pleasure,  just  as  I  felt 
before  that  the  knowledge  of  drawing  itself  made  me  find 
out  many  picturesque  things  which  my  natural  taste  would 
not  have  discovered." 

"June  2,  1817. — We  have  had  the  Stanleys  here  for  ten 
delightful  days,  for  two  of  which  we  all  adjourned  to  Hodnet. 
and  were  extremely  happy  there.  The  evenings  were  per- 
fectly delightful.  We  drank  tea  out  of  doors,  and  after 
tea,  Edward  Penrhyn*  and  I  generally  walked  about  till 
eleven  o'clock.  You  have  sometimes,  I  believe,  heard  me 
talk  of  his  perfections,  and  yet,  vain  as  you  may  have  thought 
me  then,  I  believe  now,  that  I  never  knew  him  perfectly 
till  this  time." 

"  June  7,  1817. — I  have  spent  a  very  agreeable  week  • 
but  you  will  not  be  very  much  surprised  when  you  learn 
that  two  of  the  days  we  had  the  Reginald  Hebers  here,  and 
the  rest  I  spent  at  Alderley.  I  never  saw,  or  rather  heard 
Mr.  Reginald  Heber  so  agreeable,  though,  indeed,  I  always 
say  this  of  the  last  time  of  seeing  him ;  but  really,  his  stories 
are  quite  inexhaustible — the  more  he  tells,  the  more  he 
seems  to  have  to  tell.  His  brother,  Mr.  Heber,  was  here 
likewise  one  day,  and  was  very  agreeable  too ;  but  not  so 
loveable  as  Reginald.  How  happy  I  am  to  be  able  to  say 
I  love  him  !  I  may  thank  Mrs.  R.  H.  for  that.  I  dine  with 

*  Edward  Leycester  took  the  name  of  Penrhyn  with  the  fortune  of 
his  father's  cousin,  Lady  Penrhyn,  upon  her  death. 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  23 

them  on  Saturday,  that  I  may  ride  with  them  in  the  evening, 
and  in  short,  I  see  them  continually." 

" June  12. — Do  you  wish  to  have  the  overflowings  of  my 
happiness?  Well,  then,  you  shall  be  satisfied.  After 
waiting  in  anxious  expectation  from  five  o'clock — hearing 
six  strike — then  seven — just  meaning  to  go  to  dress — just 
trying  to  persuade  my  sanguine  hopes  that  they  would  not 
come — the  rattling  wheels  of  a  hack-chaise  were  heard,  and 
the  two  dear  faces  of  my  two  dear  brothers  presented  them- 
selves  You  may  imagine  how  I  enjoy  such  com- 
panions after  my  solitude." 

" June  14. — A  most  delightful  evening  with  the  Hebers — 
Reginald  reading  and  reciting  verses,  and  telling  various 
entertaining  stories.  Among  others,  he  mentioned  that  a 
letter  had  lately  been  received  at  the  post-office  directed 
'  To  my  son,'  and  great  was  the  difficulty  as  to  whom  the 
letter  should  be  delivered,  till  a  sailor  solved  it  by  asking  if 
there  was  a  letter  '  from  my  mother,'  when  it  was  given  up 
to  him  at  once.  Late  in  the  evening  he  recited  a  poem  of 
Coleridge's — '  The  Ancient  Mariner.' " 

A  letter  from  Mrs.  Stanley  at  this  time  presents  an  idea  of 
the  happy  relationship  which  existed  between  the  sisters : — 

"Alderley,  Dec.  4,  1817. — Your  letter  was  just  what  I 
meant  to  draw  forth  by  a  little  sentence  in  my  last,  and  I 
know  you  so  well  that  I  was  pretty  sure  such  would  be  the 
effect,  and  that  is  one  great  charm  of  perfect  acquaintance 
and  confidence  in  character — the  certainty  that  everything 
will  tell,  and  that  there  will  be  a  certain  rebound,  and  that 
there  are  no  hidden  irregularities  or  unsoundnesses  to  make 
that  rebound  a  false  one,  or,  to  speak  more  plainly,  that 
there  is  the  certainty  that  one  mind  will  feel  in  reading 
exactly  what  the  other  felt  in  writing;  and  perhaps  it  is 


MEMORIALS    OF  A  QUIET   LIFE. 


necessary  to  have  more  experience  than  can  or  ought  to  be 
had  at  nineteen  of  the  inconceivable  bizarreries  of  human 
character,  which  so  often  interfere  with  this  kind  of  confi- 
dence, to  make  this  certainty  sufficiently  valued.  I  have 
often  thought  with  you  that  we  have  not  made  use  enough 
of  this  mutual  advantage.  I  believe  it  is  on  the  principle 
that  very  different  people  often  make  the  best  companions 
and  friends — that  there  is  a  certain  difference  of  conforma- 
tion necessary  to  give  variety  and  piquancy  to  conversation, 
and  that  the  interchange  of  thought  is  more  interesting 
when  things  are  seen  under  different  aspects — and  that  we 
should  not  do  to  live  together  literally  because  we  are  too 
much  alike,  so  that  it  would  be  like  talking  to  oneself, 
and  our  faults  would  meet  with  no  counterbalance  to  check 
them. 

"  However,  we  have  friends  enough,  and  different  enough, 
to  secure  us  from  all  dangers  of  this  sort,  and  I  think  we 
may  find  advantages  enough  in  our  similarity  to  do  away  all 
apprehension  of  not  being  the  greatest  mutual  pleasure  and 
comfort  to  each  other  all  through  life.  I  think  I  was  two 
years  older  than  you  at  nineteen,  that  is  to  say,  the  thoughts 
which  are  passing  through  your  mind  now  probably  went 
through  mine  at  seventeen — the  different  circumstances 
which  called  me  so  much  sooner  from  my  state  of  childhood 
to  take  my  part  in  life  being  probably  the  cause  of  this 
earlier  development,  which  I  apprehend  that  all  minds 
which  are  minds  feel  sooner  or  later.  I  do  not  think 
there  is  any  advantage  in  this  ;  rather  the  contrary  ;  we  are 
sure  to  grow  older,  mind  and  body,  sooner  than  we  wish, 
and  so  the  longer  we  can  keep  to  the  earlier  stages  the 
better.  Then  I  used  to  read  Miss  Hamilton  and  Akenside 
as  you  do,  and  I  delighted  in  the  latter ;  but  now  I  look 
back  to  my  old  marks,  and  find  many  blemishes  to  take 
away  some  of  the  delight,  and  I  find  that  the  taste  becomes 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,   AND    HODNET.  25 

more  nice  and  refined,  and  that  many  things  which  ap- 
peared insipid  then,  as  a  very  beautiful  Claude  Lorraine 
picture  would  to  an  ignorant  eye,  strike  me  now  from  their 
harmony,  just  proportion,  delicate  touches,  &c.,  which  are 
overlooked  when  the  mind  is  seeking  for  vivid  impressions, 
strong  feelings,  &c.  You  are  not  much  given  to  romance 
or  imagination,  therefore  there  is  no  necessity  to  guard 
against  any  excesses  of  this  kind,  and  I  would  rather  talk 
with  you  of  what  I  was  then  than  what  I  may  be  now,  not 
to  forestall  those  observations  and  improvements  and 
changes  which  are  good  for  nothing,  unless  they  are  worked 
out  in  a  regular  course  of  operation  by  the  mind  itself.  I 
would  always  rather  that  you  expressed  the  feeling  and 
opinion  first,  and  left  me  to  say  that  I  had  thought  and  felt 
so  before  you,  than  that  I  should  tell  you  what  had  been 
my  case,  and  then  that  you  should  find  out  yourself  in  it, 
for  there  is  always  a  danger  of  spoiling  the  originality  of 
thought  and  character  in  any  degree  of  following  after 
another ;  and  so  I  would  have  you  rather  encourage  than 
check  any  thought  which  may  happen  to  rise  different  from 
mine.  Trust  implicitly  to  your  own  heart  to  inform  you 
whether  I  shall  ever  be  tired  of  reading  all  you  can  write 
about  yourself.  I  should  be  more  interested  in  it  than  any 
other  subject,  even  if  you  were  not  my  sister,  but  being  as 
it  is !— " 

In  May,  1818,  the  Edward  Stanleys  decided  on  accom- 
panying the  family  from  Stoke  in  a  long  continental  tour, 
but  their  departure  was  considerably  delayed  by  an  accident 
which  befell  old  Mr.  Hugh  Leycester,  who  broke  his  arm 
by  falling  down-stairs,  on  coming  out  of  the  opera-house. 
While  he  was  being  nursed  in  London,  his  niece  Maria 
remained  at  Privy  Gardens  with  her  friends  the  Stanleys, 


26  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET  LIFE. 

and  much  enjoyed  seeing  many  people  of  whom  hitherto 
she  had  only  heard,  but  especially  making  the  personal 
acquaintance  of  Lady  Maria  Stanley's  niece,  Miss  Clinton, 
with  whom  she  was  ever  afterward*  united  in  the  closest 
bonds  of  affection. 

The  family  tour  lasted  more  than  five  months,  in  which 
they  visited  a  great  part  of  France,  the  north  of  Italy, 
Switzerland,  and  the  Rhine,  Mr.  Penrhyn  joining  the 
party  in  Switzerland. 

M.  L.  to  L.  A.  S.  (Lucy  ANNE  STANLEY). 

"Paris,  June  14,  1818. — We  left  Calais  with  four  horses, 
which  in  England  would  be  considered  as  far  below  the 
rank  of  cart-horses,  harnessed  together  with  ropes,  which, 
being  extremely  loose,  gave  them  the  opportunity  of  going 
one  to  one  side  of  the  road,  the  other  to  the  other,  ad 
libitum,  whilst  the  sole  office  of  the  postillions  seemed  to  be 
to  crack  their  whips  over  their  own  heads,  making  a  noise  I 
never  heard  equalled  by  anything  before.  But  this,  amusing 
as  it  was,  was  nothing  compared  with  the  excessive  drollery 
of  the  postillions  themselves — their  powdered  heads  and 
long  pigtails,  and  their  jack-boots.  Of  these  last  no 
description  can  give  an  adequate  idea;  one  little  fellow, 
who  with  some  difficulty  had  got  into  them,  no  sooner 
attempted  to  walk  than  over  he  went,  jack-boots  and  all, 
and  had  a  fine  roll Here  all  is  new,  all  is  amus- 
ing: one  hears  and  reads  of  all  the  things,  but  it  is 
astonishing  how  little  impression  it  makes  on  one.  I  have 
felt  surprised  with  many  things,  and  only  remembered 
afterwards  that  I  have  known  them  before.  I  expected  to 
have  a  fine  view  of  Paris,  or  at  least  some  intimation  of  it 
before  arriving ;  but  no,  we  went  on  through  avenues  and 
corn-fields,  close  to  Montmartre,  up  one  hill  and  down 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,    AND   HODNET.  27 

another,  expecting  each  to  give  us  a  view  of  the  town,  but 
no  sign  of  a  great  capital  appeared  till  we  got  close  to  the 
first  gate,  and  entered  in  a  moment  upon  high  houses  and 
long  streets,  in  which  the  lamps  suspended  across,  and  the 
large  gutters  down  the  middle,  give  the  first  different 
appearance  from  London.  We  arrived  at  a  place  looking 
like  a  prison,  with  one  large  door,  heavy  and  massy,  and 
windows  barred  doubly  and  trebly  with  iron.  The  outside 
of  a  hotel  is  not  inviting,  but  inside  is  a  grand  court,  and 

our  rooms  are  handsome This  morning,  Sunday,  we 

have  been  to  the  Chapelle  Royale;  the  squeezing  almost 
intolerable,  first  lifted  up,  then  pushed  down,  sideways, 
forwards,  threatened  with  broken  arms  and  legs ;  and  after 
all,  by  peeping  over  and  under  some  dozens  of  heads,  and 
standing  on  tiptoes  leaning  against  a  pillar,  contrived  to  see 
the  fat  but  not  unpleasing  Louis  XVIII.,  the  Due  and 
Duchesse  de  Berri  and  the  Comte  d'Artois,  with  all  their  old 
courtiers,  in  their  bag  wigs  and  swords  and  lace  ruffles.  .  . . 
We  have  also  been  to  Malmaison.  Little  remains  of  the 
interesting  Josephine  but  the  saloon  where  she  lived,  a  most 
delightful  room,  filled  with  pictures  still,  though  all  the 
statues  are  gone,  and  with  her  tiny  chapel  at  one  end, 
deprived  of  all  its  ornaments,  nothing  remaining  but  her 
little  altar.  But  though  the  <house  has  suffered  from  those 
who  have  succeeded  her  in  the  possession  of  it,  the  grounds 
are  all  most  wild  and  beautiful :  in  the  middle  of  them 
is  a  little  temple  dedicated  to  Cupid,  than  the  situation 
of  which  you  can  imagine  nothing  more  delicious,  close  to 
a  pretty  rivulet,  the  banks  of  which  are  covered  with  the 
most  flourishing  rhododendrons  and  azaleas,  and  quantities 

of  beautiful  flowers,  which  seem  to  grow  quite  wild 

French  people  in  general  seem  much  more  ready  to  talk  of 
the  Emperor  and  Empress  than  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette.  It  is  a  curious  specimen  of  French  character 


28  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

that  during  the  bloody  days  of  the  Revolution,  when 
numbers  were  every  day  guillotined,  a  mock  guillotine  was 
placed  at  the  corner  of  most  of  the  streets,  and  as  fast  as 
real  heads  were  chopped  off  in  one  part  of  the  town,  Punch 
was  guillotined  in  ridicule  in  another. 

"June  8. — One  cannot  much  wonder  that  the  French 
should  regret  Bonaparte.  There  is  hardly  a  part  of  the 
town,  which  is  very  handsome,  of  which  we  are  not  told 
'  1'Empereur  1'a  fait,'  and  the  only  parts  which  want  anything 
are  those  which  are  despoiled  of  what  he  placed  there.  .  .  . 
St.  Cloud  is  enchanting,  and  one  cannot  imagine  how 
Louis  XVIII.  can  prefer  the  gloomy  Tuileries  to  this  de- 
lightful spot,  where  his  rooms  open  on  fine  lawns  and 
groves  of  trees  down  to  the  banks  of  the  Seine ;  yet  it  is  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  he  can  be  persuaded  to  leave 
Paris  whilst  his  chimneys  are  swept. 

"  Milan,  July  17. — Here  we  are  really  in  Italy,  hearing  the 
sweet  sounds  of  the  Italian  tongue,  and  having  been  intro- 
duced to  Italian  roofs  and  to  lovely  Italian  vineyards, 
hung  in  festoons  like  the  wreaths  of  a  grand  festival.  .  .  . 
The  sun  had  set  when  we  reached  the  Lake  of  Como,  but 
its  rays  still  illumined  all  the  mountains,  which  rise  abruptly 
from  the  water.  There  was  a  gentle  swell ;  the  splashing  of 
the  oars  and  the  rippling  of  the  waves  was  the  only  sound 
heard.  Some  of  the  mountains  gradually  assumed  the  dark 
shades  of  twilight,  whilst  others  were  still  tinged  with  the 
last  rays  of  the  sun.  In  this  delightful  scene  imagine  a 
moon  more  clear,  more  beautiful  than  any  you  ever  saw, 
rising  in  a  sky  of  the  most  lovely  blue,  and  reflecting  its 
silver  light  far  upon  the  lake.  You  would  be  quite  en« 
chanted  with  the  moons  of  Italy ;  the  sky  and  atmosphere 
are  so  excessively  clear,  the  deep  blue  makes  the  moon  still 
more  beautiful,  and  in  the  lake  one  side  is  most  brilliantly 
illuminated,  whilst  the  other  remains  in  darkness." 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  29 

M.  L.  to  MlSS  HlBBERT. 

"Stoke,  Oct.  20,  1818. — After  an  absence  of  nearly  six 
months,  a  return  to  one's  home  is  not  at  all  disagreeable. 
For  the  first  day  I  could  hardly  fancy  where  I  was,  and  now 
that  I  find  out  that  I  am  really  at  Stoke,  I  begin  to  fancy 
all  that  I  have  seen  a  delightful  dream — too  delightful  to 
have  been  true.  When  I  left  Stoke  I  left  it  full  of  hopes 
and  expectations  which  have  been  more  than  fulfilled  and 
surpassed;  not  a  cloud  has  obscured  the  bright  sunshine 
of  a  tour  the  most  delightful  that  could  be  taken,  and  to  me 
infinitely  endeared  by  being  enjoyed  with  the  two  people  I 
love  best — my  sister  and  Edward  Penrhyn.  In  short,  I 
cannot  imagine  it  possible  for  any  one  to  enjoy  more  perfect 
happiness  than  I  have  done  for  the  last  six  months — 'les 
plus  beaux  de  ma  vie.'  It  is  well  that  you  are  away  from  me, 
or  your  ears  would  be  perfectly  stunned  with  the  never- 
ceasing  Ranz  des  Vaches  or  Tyrolean  airs  echoed  through 
the  house,  and  your  eyes  would  be  quite  wearied  in  always 
seeing  Switzerland,  Italy,  or  the  Rhine  on  my  table  in  the 
form  of  sketches  and  journals. 

"  Nov.  ]  2. — I  am  still  wild  about  the  Ranz  des  Vaches. 
Every  day  sees  me  at  the  top  of  the  field  making  the  air 
resound  with  the  calling  of  my  cows,  but  they  answer  not  to 
my  call ;  no  little  bell  tinkles  as  they  feed  on  their  green 
pastures,  and  it  is  a  most  extended  stretch  of  my  imagina- 
tion to  transform  the  flooded  meadows  into  a  beautiful  lake, 
the  wooden  barns  into  Alpine  chalets,  and  the  pointed 
clouds  into  snowy  Alps ;  but  still  the  remembrance  is  there, 
and  how  dear,  how  delightful  it  is  to  me ! 

"  Dec.  14,  1818. — My  brothers  and  I  have  had  such  a 
pleasant  visit  at  Hodnet !  There  were  only  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
R.  Heber,  Mr.  Heber,  and  Mr.  Augustus  Hare  there.  The 
latter  is  the  oddest  and  most  agreeable  person  I  have  seen 
for  a  very  long  time — very  clever  and  enthusiastic,  but  quite 


30  MEMORIALS   OF  A  QUIET   LIFE. 

unlike  other  people,  which  is  a  relief  sometimes,  for  every- 
day people  are  so  common  in  this  world.  I  was  very  happy 
in  reading  some  of  my  German  with  the  dear  Reginald,  and 
found  myself  infinitely  advanced  since  the  last  time  I  read 
with  him." 

"  March  25,  1819. — There  is  something  in  the  feel  and 
appearance  of  a  bright  sunny  spring  day  which  makes  one 
feel  pleased  with  everybody  and  everything  in  spite  of  one- 
self. It  gives  an  elastic  spring  to  one's  feelings,  which  is 
very  delightful,  and  the  sun  seems  to  light  upon  the  bright 
side  of  every  prospect  and  recollection,  and  to  leave  in 
oblivion  every  less  pleasing  part.  I  have  been  spending 
two  whole  days  with  the  Reginald  Hebers ;  he  was  very, 
very  delightful,  and  our  evenings  were  most  snug  and  com- 
fortable. Reginald  Heber  made  songs  for  us  as  fast  as  we 
could  sing  them." 

11  Alder  ley  Rectory,  May  10,  1819. — We  live  here  in 
such  perfect  retirement  and  tranquillity  that  it  is  more  like 
Stoke  than  Alderley,  and  I  enjoy  excessively  the  exemption 
from  all  interruption  to  the  happiness  of  my  life  here.  I 
believe  you  will  not  have  any  difficulty  in  imagining  how 
great  that  happiness  is,  in  the  society  of  two  people  that  one 
loves  excessively,  with  children  that  are  as  interesting  to  one 
as  if  they  were  one's  own,  and  with  all  the  luxury  of  deli- 
cious spring  weather  in  beech  woods  and  green  fields.  I 
would  defy  you  to  tantalize  me  with  the  greatest  temptations 
London  could  offer ;  as  far  as  happiness,  real  true  happi- 
ness is  concerned,  nothing  in  London  could  present  to  me 
half  as  much  as  one  perfectly  retired  uninterrupted  day  at 
Alderley." 

The  autumn  of  1819  was  spent  by  Maria  Leycester  in 
travelling  through  Scotland  with  her  brother  Edward  in  a 
gig — considered  a  most  adventurous  enterprise  for  a  young 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  31 

lady  in  those  days — seeing  Arran,  Staffa,  and  a  great  part 
of  the  Highlands,  and  paying  visits  at  Blair  Athol  and  Tay- 
mouth,  at  both  of  which  places  they  fell  in  with  Prince 
Leopold,  for  whose  recent  bereavement  great  interest  was 
then  excited. 

M.  L.  to  C.  S. 

"  KenmorC)  Sept.  13,  1819. — It  was  by  the  most  curious 
piece  of  good  fortune  that  we  arrived  at  Blair  the  very  day 
that  Prince  Leopold  came  there.  Thomas  was  sent  on 
before  us  with  my  father's  letter  and  a  card  to  the  Duke  of 
Athol,  and  in  great  curiosity  to  know  the  result,  we  arrived 
at  the  inn,  and  found  our  answer  awaiting  us.  They  should 
be  very  happy  to  see  us  at  dinner  at  seven  o'clock,  and  were 
very  sorry  not  to  have  it  in  their  power  to  offer  us  beds.  I 
was  obliged  to  summon  up  all  my  courage  at  the  idea  of 
being  ushered  into  an  immense  party  of  utter  strangers  with 
no  other  chaperon  than  Edward,  and  wished  the  day  over 
many  times,  especially  as  I  had  little  power,  with  the 
contents  of  our  small  gig-box,  of  making  myself  sufficiently 
dressed  for  such  a  party.  However,  there  was  nothing  now 
to  be  done  ;  the  chaise  came  to  the  door,  and  we  were  soon 
rattled  down  to  the  castle.  At  the  entrance,  we  were  received 
by  the  piper,  dressed  in  a  very  handsome  complete  High- 
land costume.  He  showed  us  into  the  hall,  where  we  were 
met  by  a  very  fine  gentleman,  who,  in  the  most  awful 
silence,  preceded  us  through  many  long  passages,  and  up 
a  flight  of  stairs  to  the  drawing-room.  At  the  door,  we 
were  met  by  the  Duke,  who,  after  inquiring  a  little  about 
the  difference  in  our  names,  which  had  puzzled  him  much, 
led  us  into  the  room.  Fancy  my  unhappy  situation,  with  a 
most  formidable  circle  of  ladies  before  me  at  one  end  of  the 
room,  and  a  crowd  of  gentlemen  at  the  other.  Fortunately 
the  Duchess  was  near  the  door,  and  I  was  quickly  presented 


32  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

to  her,  and,  I  believe,  to  the  Prince,  who  was  seated  by  her ; 
but  I  really  have  no  recollection  of  what  was  before  me  at 
that  moment.  The  Duke  then  led  me  to  a  chair,  by  some 
of  the  ladies,  and  I  was  very  happy  to  find  myself  seated, 
after  being  introduced  to  nine  in  succession.  Dinner  was 
soon  announced,  and  the  Duke  assigned  me  to  the  care  of 
Colonel  Grant,  whose  grey  hairs  were  rather  comforting  to 
me.  On  my  other  hand,  I  found  seated  next  me  at  dinner, 
a  pretty  and  very  unaffected  girl,  who,  in  the  course  of 
dinner,  assisted  me  in  discovering  the  names  of  all  the 
party.  .  .  .  First  let  me  introduce  you  to  his  Royal 
Highness  Prince  Leopold.  He  is  very  dark,  very  hand- 
some, and  when  listening  to  conversation,  he  looks  under 
his  eyes  very  much ;  but  there  is  something  in  his  manner 
particularly  graceful  and  charming,  and  quite  unaffected, 
though  with  a  great  appearance  of  depression.  His  suite 
consisted  of  Baron  Hardenbroke,  a  complete  German  in 
appearance,  with  a  large  nose,  and  of  a  circumference  which 
looked  as  if  eating,  drinking,  and  sleeping  were  his  sole 
occupation ;  Sir  Robert  Gardiner,  a  courtier-like  man ;  and 
Dr.  Stockmar,  the  physician.  Besides  these,  there  was 
Lord  Huntley,  a  good-humoured,  sprightly  little  man  of 
about  fifty ;  Sir  John  Oswald,  a  remarkably  gentlemanlike 
and  pleasant  military  man;  Lady  Oswald,  an  extremely 
pretty  and  sensible  young  woman,  about  your  age,  married 
at  the  same  time,  and  with  the  same  number  of  children. 
She  and  her  two  sisters  were  nieces  of  the  Duke,  one  of  the 
latter  being  my  pleasant  lively  neighbour,  and  the  elder, 
Miss  Murray,  excessively  pretty.  Then  there  was  Lady 
Emily  Murray,  wife  of  Lord  James,  and  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland,  fashionable,  and  with  plenty  of 
small-talk;  and  several  other  nieces  of  the  Duke  and 
Duchess.  Besides  these,  there  was  Dr.  M'Culloch,  a  very 
learned  and  scientific  man,  employed  in  drawing,  and 


STOKE,    ALDERL    Y,    AND    gODXET.  33 

seeming  to  understand  it  very  thoroughly.  I  have  not 
yet  mentioned  the  Duke — an  oldish  man,  very  like  Lord 
Penrhyn  in  face  and  size ;  or  the  Duchess,  a  fine-looking 
woman,  very  duchess -like,  speaking  with  a  very  pretty 
Scotch  accent,  and  excessively  good-natured.  These,  I 
think,  were  the  principals  of  the  party  before  me.  Do  not 
you  wonder  how,  out  of  my  gig-seat,  I  could  make  myself 
fit  for  such  a  party  ?  I  assure  you  the  Duchess  complimented 
me  greatly  on  my  good  management.  You  can  have  no 
idea  of  the  excessive  kindness  of  her  manner  towards  us, 
and  she  succeeded  very  soon  in  making  me  feel  quite  com- 
fortable and  at  my  ease.  The  evening  passed  away  pleasantly 
enough,  the  Prince  playing  at  cards,  the  others  talking  in 
different  groups.  On  Friday  morning  Edward  went  off 
early  with  all  the  gentlemen  to  the  mountains  to  shoot 
deer.  They  had  little  sport,  but  he  says  it  was  beautiful 
scenery,  and  very  interesting  following  them  and  trying  to 
catch  them,  and  the  train  of  Highlanders  looked  very  fine 
scattered  about.  The  Prince  is  a  great  geologist,  and 
was  much  pleased  with  finding  great  curiosity  in  the  rocks, 
.Sic.,  and  Dr.  M'Culloch  said  he  seemed  to  know  a  great 
deal  about  it.  I  had  some  beautiful  walks  meanwhile  with 
the  Miss  Murrays.  So  passed  Friday,  though  I  should  not 
omit  how  much  honoured  I  felt  by  being  spoken  to  in  the 
evening  by  the  Prince.  On  Saturday  morning  he  went 
away.  Then  they  lent  me  a  very  nice  pony,  and  sent  two 
servants  on  horseback  to  attend  us,  one  to  be  the  guide,  the 
other  to  hold  our  horses — to  see  some  waterfalls  and  a  lake 
at  some  distance  from  Blair ;  and  in  the  evening  we  had 
Highland  reels.  Edward  and  I  intended  to  go  away  on 
Sunday,  but  the  Duchess  pressed  us  so  much  to- stay,  that 
we  willingly  gave  up  our  intention,  and  stayed  till  to-day. 
I  enjoyed  myself  excessively  the  last  day  or  two.  We  had 
an  addition  to  the  party  in  two  Italians,  very  handsome, 

VOL.  I.  D 


34  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

pleasing  young  men.  The  Conte  de  Velo  was  a  Venetian, 
well  acquainted  with  Parolini,  so  we  talked  a  great  deal  to 
him ;  the  other,  Marchese  Capponi,  was  a  Florentine. 
There  was  very  little  formality,  and  everybody  extremely 
good-natured ;  and  I  got  quite  accustomed  to  all  the 
different  titles,  and  did  not  feel  alarmed  lest  I  should  say, 
'  My  Lord  '  where  I  ought  to  say  '  Duke,'  &c. ;  and  I  learnt 
to  curtsey  in  the  right  place,  and,  in  short,  felt  very  much 
at  home.  Lord  Huntley  made  us  a  very  pretty  speech  about 
his  sorrow  that  we  were  not  going  northwards,  that  he 
might  have  the  pleasure  of  receiving  us.  It  is  a  very 
different  style  of  living  from  the  English  houses,  everything 
on  a  magnificent  scale,  but  very  little  show  or  decoration, 
the  grounds  not  at  all  dressed  or  ornamented,  as  in  English 
parks,  but  very  wild  and  beautiful.  I  forgot  to  say  that 
after  dinner  the  first  evening  the  Duchess  told  us  that  she 
had  not  been  able  to  offer  us  beds,  because  she  had  not 
been  sure  how  many  persons  the  Prince  would  bring  with 
him  ;  but  he  had  brought  fewer  than  she  expected,  and  she 
was  very  glad  to  be  able  to  find  two  beds  for  us  in  con- 
sequence, so  we  stayed  in  the  house  all  the  time.  It  is  an 
immense  house  in  length,  and  almost  the  ugliest  I  ever  saw, 
and  without  much  furniture. 

"As  nothing  but  princes  will  do  for  us  now,  we  came  to- 
day to  Taymouth,  sent  up  a  note  to  Lady  Breadalbane  to 
ask  when  we  might  wait  upon  them,  and  received  for 
answer  that  they  hoped  to  see  us  at  dinner,  but  had  no 
beds.  No  post-chaises  are  to  be  had  here,  and  as  it  was  im- 
possible for  me  to  go  into  such  a  party  il/c. :  cd  for  dinner  in 
a  gig,  I  was  obliged  to  give  it  up  with  great  reluctance,  and 
send  Edward  alone,  and  he  is  now  dining  with  the  Prince, 
Lord  Lauderdale,  and  I  don't  know  who  else,  and  to-morrow, 
perhaps,  they  may  have  beds  for  us. 

"  There  has  been  a  grand  dinner  for  the  tenants,  and  I 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  35 

have  been  well  amused  all  evening  watching  them  as  they 
assembled  in  the  village  before  going  home, — some  hundreds 
of  Highlanders,  whose  dress  exceeds  in  gaiety  and  variety 
everything  you  can  imagine  :  it  looked  just  like  a  scene  in  a 
play,  seeing  one  after  another  pass  out  of  a  gate  in  the  park, 
dressed  in  bonnet  and  kilt,  sporran  and  hose  and  plaid. 
There  was  a  very  fine  scene  at  Lord  Huntley's  to  surprise 
the  Prince  the  other  day, — he  was  at  the  top  of  some  high 
hill,  when  all  of  a  sudden  up  started  five  hundred  Highlanders 
just  like  Roderick  Dhu's  troop. 

"  It  is  quite  comical  how  much  society  we  have  had.  At 
Fort-William  we  met  with  Mr.  E.  Lomax  again,  and  at 
Inverness  with  Mr.  Augustus  Hare,  so  we  have  not  had 
much  time  to  get  tired  of  each  other.  We  get  generally 
envied  for  our  independent  and  comfortable  way  of 
travelling,  and  nothing  can  have  more  enjoyment  than  we 
have  when  it  is  tolerable  weather. 

"  Sept.  14. — Edward  had  a  very  pleasant  dinner.  We 
have  refused  their  invitation  for  to-day,  and  have  been 
making  the  tour  of  Loch  Tay  instead.  To-morrow  we  go 
to  stay  at  Taymouth,  and  shall  see  the  interesting  Prince 
again,  as  he  stays  there  till  Thursday. 

"Sept.  24. — I  left  you  last  just  as  we  were  going  to  Tay- 
mouth. That  you  may  go  on  with  us  in  idea  through  all 
our  proceedings,  I  must  go  back,  I  suppose,  to  that  time.  I 
\vas  exceedingly  glad  to  be  spared  all  the  awful  entrance 
into  the  drawing-room  full  of  strangers,  which  I  had  to 
encounter  at  Blair,  for  by  going  in  the  morning  I  made  ac- 
quaintance with  all  the  ladies,  and  felt  much  more  at  home 
amongst  them.  The  dinner  presented  nothing  formidable 
to  me.  Would  you  know  our  party?  Prince  Leopold  and 
suite  to  begin  with,  and  I  must  tell  you  that  when  he  came 
into  the  room  before  dinner  he  came  across  to  me,  and  said 
in  his  sweet  manner,  '  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Leycester  ?  I 


36  MEMORIALS   OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

was  not  aware  that  you  were  here ;'  and  then  he  went  to 
Edward  and  inquired  from  him  why  I  had  not  come  with 
him  the  first  day  to  Taymouth,  and  whether  he  had  been 
back  to  Blair  to  fetch  me.  He  has  that  happy  faculty  for  a 
prince  of  never  forgetting  anything.  There  was  his  great 
friend  Lord  Lauderdale,  an  odd-looking  little  man,  dressed 
like  a  groom,  yet  quite  the  gentleman  in  his  manner,  and 
with  a  very  intelligent  countenance  and  style  of  conversation, 
— Sir  Peter  and  Lady  Mary  Murray, — Sir  Niel  and  Lady 
Menzies,  and  Mr.  Douglas  Kinnaird.  We  had  a  very  agree- 
able dinner,  not  certainly  from  the  ladies'  agreeableness,  but 
from  Lord  Lauderdale,  Mr.  Kinnaird,  and  the  Prince.  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  sit  opposite  his  Royal  Highness,  and 
he  talked  a  great  deal,  and  told  many  anecdotes  of  Bona- 
parte, &c.  In  the  evening  we  had  music,  dancing,  and 
cards,  and  the  Prince  joined  in  singing  'Auld  Lang  Syne' 
with  Miss  Murray :  he  has  a  very  fine  bass  voice,  and  sang 
with  much  taste  and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  music.  I 
was  so  sorry  that  there  was  none  of  Don  Giovanni  there  for 
him  to  sing,  for  he  seemed  so  well  acquainted  with  that,  and 
hummed  it  so  well,  that  he  would  have  sung  more,  I  daresay, 
but  unfortunately  Lady  Elizabeth  Campbell  was  from  home, 
and  had  taken  all  her  music  with  her. 

"  Thursday  morning  was  beautifully  fine.  We  breakfasted 
with  the  Prince  at  seven  o'clock,  and  afterwards  he  embarked 
with  some  of  the  party  in  a  boat  on  Loch  Tay.  I  went 
with  Lady  Breadalbane  in  her  carriage  to  meet  them  at  the 
other  end  of  the  Loch,  fifteen  miles  off,  at  a  very  pretty  cot- 
tage of  Lord  Breadalbane's.  We  arrived  before  the  boat.  A 
cold  dinner  was  prepared,  and  when  the  Prince  landed,  a 
troop  of  Highlanders,  preceded  by  bagpipes  playing  and 
colours  flying,  escorted  him  up  to  the  cottage.  At  two 
o'clock  he  left  Auchmoor,  the  cottage,  and  proceeded  on  his 
journey  to  Callendar,  and  it  seemed  really  quite  a  blank 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND   HODNET.  37 

when  he  was  gone,  his  manner  is  so  very  engaging  and 
pleasant.  We  had  a  capital  specimen  of  a  Highland 
chieftain  in  the  Laird  of  MacNab,  who  came  to  wait  upon 
the  Prince  in  full  chieftain  dress, — eagle  plumes  in  his 
bonnet,  &c.  He  was  a  fine-looking  man,  and  seemed  to 
consider  himself  by  far  the  greatest  person  in  the  com- 
pany. .  .  . 

"  On  Friday  we  left  Taymouth  and  proceeded  to  Dunkeld 
and  then  to  Loch  Katrine.  Every  step  of  the  way  from 
Callendar,  as  we  traced  the  progress  of  Roderick's  cross  of 
fire,  was  interesting,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  how  every  bush 
and  tree,  every  copse  and  mound,  seemed  animated,  or 
how  exactly  Scott  has  pictured  the  character  and  style  of 
scenery.  I  expected  to  be  disappointed  from  having  so 
high  an  idea  of  Loch  Katrine  in  my  own  mind,  but  never 
were  expectations  of  beauty  more  fully  realised.  I  have 
enjoyed  no  day  so  much  on  our  tour  as  this  one :  we  spent 
many  hours  on  the  lake  and  in  the  Trosachs,  scrambling  up 
Ellen's  Isle,  visiting  the  pebbly  beach,  the  aged  oak,  &c., 
and  feeling  every  line  in  the  '  Lady  of  the  Lake '  echoed  in 
one's  own  sense  of  great  delight.  It  is  quite  curious  how 
completely  it  is  all  considered  as  reality  by  the  people  of  the 
place,  and  you  are  shown  with  as  much  gravity  where  the 
gallant  grey  was  lost,  and  where  Fitz  James  or  Ellen  stood, 
as  if  they  had  been  real  persons  and  real  events. 

"  We  have  since  had  another  interesting  day  on  Loch 
Awe,  the  scenery  in  which  '  Rob  Roy'  is  laid.  We  had  an 
introduction  to  Dr.  Grahame,  who  went  with  us,  and  as 
he  had  been  with  Walter  Scott  there  before  'Rob  Roy' 
was  written,  he  knew  all  the  spots  he  particularly  noticed 
then,  and  has  since  most  accurately  described.  He  showed 
us  the  rock  from  which  Morris  was  thrown,  the  tree  by 
which  Baillie  Jarvie  hung,  and  the  beautiful  spot  where 
Helen  Macgregor  gave  her  breakfast,  which  Scott  has 


38  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

described  quite  with  minute  accuracy.  Here  Dr.  Grahame 
said  Walter  Scott  sat  without  speaking  for  twenty  minutes, 
looking  at  the  waterfall  and  rocks.  It  is  a  wonderful  power 
of  sketching  in  his  own  mind  a  scene  as  accurately  as  any 
drawing  could  render  it,  and  describing  afterwards." 

M.  L.  to  MISS  HlBBERT. 

"Stoke  Rectory,  Oct.  24. — I  have  not  yet  told  you  of  the 
pleasantest  part  of  our  tour,  our  visit  to  Walter  Scott.  He 
lives  about  three  miles  from  Melrose,  and  our  first  day's 
journey  from  Edinburgh  was  to  his  house.  We  had  a  letter 
to  him  from  Reginald  Heber,  and  Mr.  Scott  persuaded  us 
to  stay  three  days  with  him,  during  which  time  we  had  full 
opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with  him.  We  were 
the  only  strangers,  and  therefore  had  his  conversation  all  to 
ourselves,  and  most  highly  were  we  gratified.  He  is  un- 
affected and  simple  in  his  manner  to  the  greatest  degree, 
and  at  first  his  countenance  only  bespeaks  good  humour ; 
but  mention  any  subject  that  interests  him,  and  he  lights  up 
in  an  instant  into  fire  and  animation.  He  is  a  kind  of 
person  one  could  not  feel  afraid  of  for  a  moment.  What- 
ever subject  you  begin  is  the  same  to  him ;  he  has  something 
entertaining  to  tell  on  every  one,  and  the  quickness  with 
which  he  catches  up  everything  that  is  passing,  even  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room,  is  surprising.  His  family  consists  of 
a  very  insignificant  little  wife,  a  French  woman,  quite  in- 
ferior to  him,  and  his  daughters,  who  are  fine  sensible, 
clever  girls,  quite  brought  up  by  him.  The  eldest  sang 
Jacobite  songs  and  border  ballads  to  us  with  such  spirit 
and  enthusiasm,  that  it  was  delightful,  and  their  love  for 
Scotland  makes  them  quite  worthy  of  it.  Their  chief 
delight  is  in  the  Border  stories  and  traditions,  in  which  they 
are  very  rich.  His  house  is  built  by  himself,  and  is  very 
odd  and  picturesque.  There  is  a  little  armoury  with  painted 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  39 

glass  windows,  and  the  walls  and  chimneypiece  covered  with 
antiquities — Claverhouse's  pistol,  Rob  Roy's  gun  and  purse, 
Highland  arms,  targets,  and  claymores,  quaighs,  thumb- 
screws, trophies  from  Waterloo,  ancient  armour — in  short, 
it  is  the  most  interesting  and  curious  little  room. 

"Then  at  every  step  about  the  house. you  come  to  some 
curious  thing.  He  has  got  the  gate  of  the  Old  Tolbooth. 
and  the  great  keys  which  have  locked  up  so  many  victims, 
and  the  real  tower,  removed  to  his  house.  But  I  have  no 
room  for  more  about  Walter  Scott  now,  except  that  we  came 
away  quite  enchanted  with  the  poet,  and  still  more  with  the 
man."1 

"Jan.  17,  1820. — All  last  week  Charles  and  I  passed  at 
Hodnet,  and  I  need  not  say  if  we  enjoyed  it.  Only  Miss 
Heber  was  there,  and  Mr.  Stow,  a  friend  of  Reginald's  who 
is  at  present  living  at  Hodnet  as  his  curate.  Of  this  latter 
person  I  must  say  a  little  more,  for  I  never  met  with  any 
one  so  like  Edward  Stanley  as  he  is,  no  less  in  his  jet  black 
eyes,  eyebrows,  and  hair,  than  in  the  energy  and  enthusiasm 
of  his  character,  the  extent  of  his  information  on  every  sub- 
ject, and  the  excessive  quickness  and  activity  of  his  mind 
and  body.  After  this  description  I  need  not  say  whether 
he  was  an  addition  to  the  party.  We  had  every  kind  of 
amusement  in  the  evenings  in  dancing,  singing,  and  acting. 
Reginald  Heber  and  Mr.  Stow  are  both  excellent  actors, 
and  we  acted  a  French  proverbe  one  night,  and  the  '  Chil- 
dren in  the  Wood '  another,  forming  in  ourselves  both  the 
performers  and  the  audience,  and  very  amusing  it  was.  It 
tvas  all  extempore,  and  our  dresses  we  got  up  in  a  few 
minutes  at  the  time,  so  there  was  no  trouble  attending  it, 
no  spectators  to  alarm  us,  and  perfect  unanimity  and  good- 
humour  to  make  it  enjoyable.  In  the  mornings  one  of  the 
party  read  Scott's  new  novel,  '  Ivanhoe,'  aloud  to  the 
others  .  .  ." 


4°  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Maria  Leycester's  religious  impressions  became  much 
strengthened  about  this  time  by  the  opening  of  a  corre- 
spondence on  spiritual  subjects  with  her  friend  Lucy  Stanley 
— an  intercourse  which  was  continued  through  their  whole 
lives.  On  January  6,  1820,  she  had  first  written  : — 

M.  L.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  I  cannot  tell  how  much  pleasure  it  gives  me  to 
think  that  you  have  become  interested  in  that  subject, 
which  to  those  who  think  seriously  about  it  must  be  the 
most  interesting  that  can  be  found — the  comfort,  the  assist- 
ance, the  support  it  affords,  are  so  far  beyond  that  which 
anything  else  can  give,  that,  having  once  found  it,  I  am  not 
afraid  you  should  forsake  it.  For  my  own  sake,  too,  I  am 
glad,  for  I  always  feel  a  great  reluctance  to  express  to  another 
person  feelings  which  I  am  not  sure  that  they  will  perfectly 
understand ;  and  I  feel,  and  I  daresay  you  have  felt  this 
far  more  with  regard  to  religion  than  to  anything  else. 
There  is  a  sacredness  about  it  which  prevents  one  entering 
upon  it  except  where  it  will  be  entirely  entered  into — where 
there  can  be  no  mistake  about  the  nature  of  one's  feelings.  It 
is  not  a  feeling  which  can  be  explained ;  it  must  be  felt,  as 
that  which  leads  one  to  aspire  to  an  ambition  higher  far 
than  we  can  find  here,  as  that  which  affords  a  noble  and 
exalted  motive  for  every  exertion  .  .  ." 

In  March,  1820,  a  great  sorrow  came  to  the  family  at 
Stoke,  in  the  sudden  death  of  Charles  Leycester,  from— 
what  was  not  then  known  as — diphtheria.  To  his  sister  this 
grief  was  aggravated  by  her  not  being  permitted  to  see  him 
for  fear  of  infection,  but  he  was  most  devotedly  nursed  by 
Mrs.  Oswald  Leycester. 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,   AND    HODNET.  4! 

M.  L.  to  Miss  L.  H.  and  L.  A.  S. 

"Stoke,  March  29,  1820. — It  was  so  sudden,  so  unex- 
pected, that  I  was  almost  stunned,  and  hardly  knew  what  I 
felt  for  a  time.  We  had  been  so  peculiarly  happy  together 
that  I  could  not  believe  in  the  danger  to  the  very  last. 
Every  recollection  from  my  earliest  years,  every  interest, 
every  prospect,  every  pleasure,  was  united  with  him.  For 
the  last  three  months  we  have  never  been  separated,  and 
there  is  not  a  room  or  a  thing  in  the  house  which  does  not 
recall  him  to  my  memory,  and  make  me  feel  in  its  utmost 
bitterness  the  dreadful  vacancy.  But  I  feel  it  is  the  hand 
of  God,  a  means  for  leading  us  more  to  Him  who  has  given 
us  all ;  and  his  mind  was  so  pure,  his  thoughts  so  serious, 
and  he  was  so  convinced  that  he  should  not  live  long,  that 
I  feel  confident  he  was  prepared.  I  saw  him  after  his  spirit 
had  fled,  and  his  countenance  was  so  heavenly  and  beauti- 
ful, that  it  was  the  greatest  comfort  to  me;  and  when  I 
think  of  it  now  I  feel  how  selfish  is  all  my  sorrow.  I  have 
yet  one  brother  left,  and  many,  many  blessings — but  Charles, 
dear  Charles ! 

"April  14. — I  can  feel  quite  composed  now  in  writing  or 
thinking  of  him  I  have  lost ;  but  when  they  talk  of  other 
things  I  feel  a  sinking — a  weight  that  I  cannot  overcome ; 
and  if  my  thoughts  can  be  diverted  from  the  subject 
which  is  almost  ever  present  to  it,  it  is  a  bitter  return  to 
it.  We  have  been  so  uninterruptedly  blest  that  I  feel  it 
is  good  for  us  to  be  afflicted,  to  lead  our  hearts  to  Him 
who  hath  given  us  all.  I  was  too  confident,  too  pre- 
sumptuous in  the  expectation  of  a  continuance  of  such 
happiness,  and  now  to  Him  who  gave  and  hath  taken  away 
I  have  turned  for  consolation  and  support — and  oh !  if  that 
feeling  of  nothingness — of  resignation  into  the  hands  of  an 
Almighty  Will  could  last  which  we  feel  in  the  hour  of  afflic- 
tion— how  different  we  should  be  !  No  one  who  has  felt  the 


42  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIEI    LIFE. 

purifying,  elevating  effect  of  such  feelings  could  wish  to  put 
them  away  or  return  to  the  same  round  of  worldly  occupa- 
tions or  pursuits,  without  one  thought  beyond  the  present 
hour  or  day. 

"  There  is  no  bitterness,  no  harshness,  in  our  grief.  It  is 
so  softened  down  by  every  recollection,  so  chastened,  so 
subdued,  that  I  cannot  bear  to  put  it  away  or  try  to  forget 
it,  and  those  who  wish  to  divert  and  turn  one's  attention  to 
other  things,  know  little  of  the  feeling  of  real  affliction, 
which  is  of  so  elevating  a  nature  that  it  cannot  be  wrong  to 
indulge  in  it.  There  is  something  so  sacred  and  hallowed 
in  one's  affection  for  one  who  is  called  to  another  world,  it 
seems  to  unite  one's  heart  with  eternity — to  refine  it  from 
any  exclusive  attachment  to  earth.  I  feel  fears  mingled 
with  my  love  for  those  who  are  left,  and  shudder  at  the 
thought  of  their  being  taken  too,  but  I  can  think  of  him 
without  fear  or  dread,  and  feel  that  the  affection  which  was 
begun  and  cherished  here  will  be  perfected  hereafter. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  the  time  when  the  impression 
of  Charles  will  be  less  strong  than  it  is  now.  It  is  such  a 
pleasure  to  fancy  I  see  him  by  me — to  remember,  till  recol- 
lection almost  becomes  reality,  everything  he  said,  the  tone 
of  his  voice,  the  expression  of  his  eye,  to  imagine  he  is  not 
dead  but  parted  for  a  time,  even  though  the  illusion  is  very 
short." 

The  summer  of  1821  was  spent  by  Miss  Leycester  with 
the  Stanleys  in  Anglesea. 

M.  L.  to  MRS.  REGINALD  HEBER. 

"  Penrhos,  August  13,  1821. — The  last  has  been  a  most 
interesting  week.  It  was  just  before  dinner  on  Monday 
that  the  report  was  spread  through  the  house  that  the  blue 
flag  was  hoisted  on  the  signal  station  on  Holyhead  moun- 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,   AND    HODNET.  43 

tain.  This  we  knew  to  signify  that  a  number  of  ships  were 
in  sight.  In  an  instant  the  balcony  was  filled  and  every 
telescope  in  requisition,  and  having  ascertained  the  fact  to 
be  so,  we  went  to  dinner.  We  had  not  half  finished  dinner 
when  a  gun  was  heard,  announcing  the  red  flags  being  sub- 
stituted for  the  blue  ones.  The  dinner-table  and  house 
were  speedily  deserted,  and  we  hurried  to  Holyhead,  and 
took  our  station  at  the  top  of  the  lighthouse  which  is  at  the 
end  of  the  pier.  There  we  waited  for  some  hours,  watching 
a  tremendous  thunderstorm,  and  seeing  all  the  vessels  in 
harbour  sail  out  to  meet  the  King.  It  grew  darker  and 
darker,  and  at  last  we  were  obliged  to  return  home  in 
despair.  About  2  A.M.  Sir  John  was  waked  by  a  letter 
from  Lord  Anglesea,  saying  that  the  King  was  anchored  in 
the  bay,  but  had  not  yet  decided  on  landing.  At  six  we  all 
sallied  forth  to  see  the  beautiful  squadron,  consisting  of  two 
fine  frigates,  four  large  yachts,  and  sloops  of  war  and  in- 
numerable cutters.  The  morning  was  spent  in  hearing 
divers  reports  of  what  the  King  intended  to  do,  sending  him 
presents  of  fruit  and  flowers,  which  were,  I  believe,  very  ac- 
ceptable, and  watching  him  while  he  was  walking  on  deck, 
and  visiting  the  Active  and  Liffy.  Whilst  on  board  the 
Liffy,  intelligence  came  that  the  King  designed  to  land.  We 
hurried  back  to  the  lighthouse,  from  the  balcony  of  which 
we  had  the  most  extensive  and  uninterrupted  view  imagin- 
able. The  scene  which  followed  was  really  magnificent.  It 
was  a  most  beautiful  day,  a  bright  sun  shining  upon  all  the 
vessels,  and  the  sea  a  deep  dark  green  colour.  At  four 
o'clock  the  guns  of  Holyhead  and  Penrhos  batteries  fired 
the  royal  salute — a  sign  that  the  King  had  got  into  his  barge ; 
in  an  instant  every  yard  was  manned,  every  vessel  covered 
with  flags  of  every  colour  and  form,  and  every  gun  was 
fired  from  each  vessel,  giving  one  in  some  degree  an  idea  of 
what  an  engagement  must  be,  as  the  clouds  of  smoke  and 


4-1  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

fire  issued  from  each  and  echoed  through  the  bay.  The 
sun  shining  on  the  flags,  and  little  regiments  of  men  on 
every  yard,  and  beautiful  cutters  sailing  about  in  all  direc- 
tions, really  exceeded  all  one  could  imagine  in  beauty.  By 
degrees  the  royal  barge  approached,  attended  by  the  boats 
belonging  to  each  ship,  the  crew  dressed  in  black,  scarlet, 
and  gold,  the  oars  tipped  with  gold,  and  the  royal  standard 
at  one  end.  It  reached  the  shore,  and  as  the  King  placed  his 
foot  on  the  first  step,  the  guns  fired,  the  band  (which  at- 
tended in  one  of  the  boats,  struck  up  '  God  save  the  King,' 
every  hat  and  handkerchief  was  waved,  and  loud  hurrahs 
and  cheers  came  from  the  crowds  of  people  assembled  on 
the  pier.  It  was  a  moment  never  to  forget,  for  every  recol- 
lection of  individual  folly  and  unworthiness  was  banished 
from  one's  mind  in  the  overpowering  feeling  and  enthusiasm 
of  the  moment,  and  the  deep  silence  which  followed  the 
burst  of  applause  when  he  landed  on  the  pier  was  very 
striking.  There,  in  the  midst  of  the  two  rows  of  people,  Sir 
John  knelt  to  receive  him.  The  King  made  a  speech  ex- 
pressive of  his  gratitude  for  the  attention  shown  to  him,  and 
his  pleasure  at  seeing  the  country  of  which  he  had  so  long 
borne  the  name.  Sir  John  then  read  the  Address,  again 
knelt  and  kissed  hands,  and  the  King  then  proceeded  to  his 
carriage,  attended  by  Lord  Anglesea,  followed  by  several 
carriages,  and  the  crowd  cheering  all  the  way  as  he  drove 
slowly  through  a  triumphal  arch  erected  at  the  end  of  the 
pier. 

"  On  Wednesday  the  King  returned  from  Plas  Newydd, 
and  the  greater  part  of  the  scene  was  again  repeated.  On 
Thursday  morning  a  King's  messenger  arrived  with  the  news 
of  the  Queen's  death.  We  saw  the  despatch  was  carried 
down  to  him  in  his  cabin.  Of  what  might  be  his  feelings 
we  of  course  knew  nothing ;  every  outward  mark  of  decency 
has  been  shown,  all  the  flags  being,  by  his  order,  put  half 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND   HODNET.  45 

mast  high,  and  he  not  appearing  on  deck  at  all,  and  dining 
alone  in  his  cabin.  One  could  not  help  a  feeling  of  melan- 
choly at  the  idea  that  while  he  was  receiving  the  homage 
of  his  people,  surrounded  by  all  that  could  be  of  grandeur 
and  magnificence,  his  poor  Queen  was  lying  on  her  death- 
bed, deserted  by  all  who  had  any  natural  ties  to  lament  or 
regret  her  loss." 

In  December,  1822,  the  Bishopric  of  Calcutta  was 
offered  to  Reginald  Heber,  with  but  little  hope  that  he 
would  be  willing  to  sacrifice  the  comforts  and  interests  of 
his  Shropshire  living  for  a  mitre  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges. 
He  was,  however,  led  to  its  acceptance  by  the  consciousness 
of  how  wide  a  sphere  of  usefulness  he  would  reject  in  its 
refusal,  and  almost  immediately  began  to  prepare  for  his 
departure  from  Hodnet.  Greatly  as  his  approaching  loss 
was  felt  by  many  in  the  neighbourhood,  the  blow  was  in- 
comparably most  severe  to  Maria  Leycester,  who  for  many 
years  had  been  like  a  sister  to  him,  and  who  had  derived 
her  chief  home-pleasures  from  his  society,  and  that  of  Mrs. 
Heber. 

M.  L.'s  JOURNAL. 

"Feb.  8,  1823. — The  extreme  suffering  I  felt  on  first 
hearing  of  the  intended  departure  of  the  Hebers  for  India, 
has  now  passed.  Those  vividly  painful  feelings  seldom  con- 
tinue long  in  the  same  form,  when  the  necessity  for  exertion, 
variety  of  society,  and  change  of  place,  call  upon  the  mind 
for  fresh  thoughts.  But  though  the  immediate  shock  is 
over,  and  my  mind  is  by  time  habituated  to  the  idea,  so  that 
I  can  now  think  and  write  of  it  calmly,  it  is  no  less  a 
source  of  the  deepest  sorrow  to  me.  Nor  is  it  merely  in 


46  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  pain  of  parting  with  such  friends  that  I  shall  feel  it.  It 
will  be  in  the  daily  loss  I  shall  experience  of  kind  and 
affectionate  neighbours,  of  an  interest  always  kept  up,  of 
the  greatest  part  of  my  home  enjoyments. 

"  I  had  so  little  foreseen,  at  any  time,  the  possibility  of 
this  event,  that  I  was  totally  unprepared  for  it,  and  although 
now  it  appears  quite  natural  that  Reginald,  who  is  so  pecu- 
liarly fitted  for  the  situation,  should  wish  for  it,  I  could 
hardly  at  first  believe  it  to  be  possible.  .  .  .  The  remem- 
brance of  the  last  two  years  rises  up  before  me  so  much  the 
more  endeared  from  the  thought  that  those  happy  days  will 
never  again  return.  There  is  nothing  out  of  my  own  family 
which  could  have  made  so  great  a  blank  in  my  existence  as 
this  will  do.  For  so  many  years  have  they  been  to  me  as 
brother  and  sister,  giving  to  me  so  much  pleasure,  so  much 
improvement.  It  will  be  the  breaking  up  of  my  thoughts 
and  habits  and  affections  for  years,  and  scarcely  can  I  bear 
to  think  that  in  a  few  months  those  whom  I  have  loved  so 
dearly  will  be  removed  from  me  far  into  another  world — 
for  such  does  India  appear  at  this  distance." 

"  April  3. — So  much  has  one  feeling  occupied  every 
thought  for  the  last  two  months,  that  it  seems  but  a  day 
since  I  wrote  the  last  few  lines — with  this  only  difference, 
that  the  reality  is  so  much  more  bitter  than  the  anticipation, 
and  that  the  certainty  of  my  loss  is  now  brought  back  to  me 
by  the  knowledge  that  I  shall  never  see  them  again,  here  or 
at  Hodnet.  The  chord  is  snapped  asunder,  and  I  feel  in 
its  full  force  the  effect  it  must  have  on  my  future  happiness. 
I  look  around  in  vain  for  a  bright  spot  to  which  to  turn. 
All  that  I  valued  most,  out  of  my  own  family,  will  be  at 
once  taken  from  me,  and  it  will  leave  a  blank  that  cannot 
be  filled.  To  find  a  friend  like  Reginald,  with  a  heart  so 
kind,  so  tender,  and  a  character  so  heavenly,  must  be  utterly 
impossible,  and  the  remembrance  of  all  the  interest  he  has 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  47 

shown  in  me,  and  all  his  kindness,  makes  the  feeling  of  his 
loss  very  difficult  to  bear.  .  .  ." 

August  i,  1823. — This  evening  I  have,  for  the  first 
time,  ventured  to  go  by  Hodnet  It  must  be  done,  and 
it  was  better  alone  than  with  others.  So,  having  dined  early, 
I  took  a  long  ride — one  of  our  old  rides  which  I  have  so 
often  taken  with  him.  There  stood  the  poor  deserted  Rec- 
tory, with  its  flowers  and  its  fields — the  green  gate,  which  I 
have  so  seldom  passed  before  unopened,  all  looking  exactly 
the  same  as  in  days  of  happiness,  and  now  how  changed 
from  their  former  merriment  to  solitude  and  silence  !  Those 
beautiful  park-fields  where  I  have  so  often  walked,  and 
where  I  shall  never  walk  again,  lay  shining  in  the  evening 
sun,  looking  most  tranquil  and  peaceful,  as  if  in  a  world  so 
beautiful  unhappiness  could  not  be  found.  Scarcely  could 
I  believe,  as  I  looked  around  me,  that  all  were  gone  with 
whom  I  had  enjoyed  so  many  happy  days  there,  and  that 
those  same  trees  and  fields  were  alone  remaining  to  speak 
to  me  of  the  past,  every  step  recalling  to  me  some  word  or 
look.  As  I  rode  along,  recollections  crowded  on  me  so  fast 
that  I  felt  hardly  conscious  of  the  present  and  its  gloom,  in 
living  over  again  a  period  of  such  happiness.  .  .  ." 

But  the  feelings  of  grief  with  which  Maria  Leycester 
watched  the  departure  of  the  Hebers  for  India,  did  not 
solely  arise  from  the  pain  of  losing  their  society.  In  losing 
them  she  lost  al?o  the  only  means  of  communication  with 
another,  who  hail  become,  in  the  last  few  years,  even  more 
ly  endeared  to  her,  and  w:th  whom  her  acquaintance 
had  began  and  ripened  under  their  roof,  and  been  fostered 
by  their  sympathy  and  protection.  It  was  in  the  autumn  of 
1819,  upon  her  return  from  Scotland,  that  she  first  met  with 
Mr.  Martin  Stow,  a  person  -.vho  v.as  to  have  much  in- 


4 8  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

fluence  over  her  future  life.  Though  regarding  him  as  "  a 
mere  country  curate,"  she  was  at  once  interested  in  him  by 
the  likeness  which  many  perceived  between  him  and  her 
beloved  brother-in-law,  Edward  Stanley.  Early  in  January, 
1820,  she  spent  a  week  at  Hodnet  Rectory,  during  which 
they  were  constantly  together,  sharing  in  the  many  amuse- 
ments of  that  happy  home,  in  all  of  which  Mr.  Stow  was  a 
most  willing  and  able  assistant,  and  in  which  his  high  spirits 
seemed  to  communicate  themselves  to  every  member  of  the 
party,  and  to  spread  a  spirit  of  life  and  vivacity  around 
him.  In  the  following  summer,  the  acting  of  Mr.  Heber's 
little  play  of  Blue  Beard  again  assembled  the  party  at 
Hodnet,  where  there  was  always  the  most  enjoyable  kind  of 
society,  no  form  or  dulness,  but  conversation  of  every  kind, 
sometimes  playful  and  sometimes  serious  ;  a  bright  colouring 
seemed  to  invest  everything,  and  those  who  were  admitted 
into  the  little  circle  of  intimates  of  which  Reginald  Heber 
was  the  centre,  found  a  charm  in  every  occupation  and 
pursuit  which  they  had  never  felt  before.  It  was  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  that,  meeting  on  such  terms,  two  persons 
whose  pursuits  and  tastes  were  similar,  should  become  in- 
timate. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  happiness  (March,  i8.".o)  that 
Charles  Leycester's  death  occurred  after  a  single  week's 
illness.  His  sister  at  the  time  was  almost  crushed  by 
the  blow,  and  the  first  person  to  whom  she  turned  with 
interest,  when  she  began  to  recover  from  the  stunning  force 
of  sorrow,  was  Mr.  Stow,  who  had  been  the  intimate  friend 
of  the  brother  she  had  lost ;  and  in  the  following  summer 
in  her  rides  with  her  brother  Edward,  he  constantly  joined 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AXD    HODNET.  49 

them,  and  the  three  rambled  together  over  the  woods  at 
Hawkestone,  discovering  new  paths,  and  enjoying  their 
beauties. 

In  the  following  summer  of  1821  Maria  Leycester  was 
constantly  urged  by  the  Hebers  to  form  one  of  their  party, 
and  her  visits  to  Hodnet  Rectory  were  of  almost  daily 
occurrence.  Mr.  Stow  was  generally  there ;  the  walks  with 
him  and  Reginald  Heber  had  an  indescribable  charm,  and 
the  affection  which  had  gradually  and  unconsciously  been 
drawing  their  hearts  together,  could  not  but  daily  gain 
strength. 

In  June,  Maria  Leycester  was  again  staying  at  Hodnet, 
at  the  time  of  the  christening  of  the  little  Emily  Heber,  at 
which  she  and  Mr.  Stow  knelt  side  by  side  as  proxy  god- 
father and  godmother.  During  this  visit  he  begged  per- 
mission to  make  known  to  her  family  the  feeling  with  which 
he  regarded  her,  but  his  advances  were  coldly  received  by 
them,  and  both  his  daughter  and  Mr.  Stow  became  aware 
how  impossible  it  would  be  ever  to  obtain  Mr.  Leycester's 
consent  to  their  union.  Without  this  she  would  not  marry. 
In  that  autumn  Mr.  Stow  accepted  the  British  chaplaincy  at 
Genoa,  whence  he  maintained  a  constant  correspondence 
with  the  Hebers,  through  whom  a  certain  degree  of  com- 
munication was  preserved. 

In  February,  1822,  Mr.  Stow  was  recalled  to  England  by 
his  father's  death,  and  came  again  to  Hodnet,  bringing  his 
sister  with  him,  and  he  and  Miss  Leycester  met  with  that 
calmness  of  intercourse  which  arose  from  no  change  in  the 
degree  of  their  attachment,  but  from  the  confirmed  steadi- 
ness with  which  it  had  now  become  part  of  themseJves,  and 

VOL.  I.  E 


50  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

which  it  had  acquired  in  the  experience  of  many  months 
separation,  and  when  he  returned  to  Genoa  it  was  with  a 
mutual  though  unspoken  assurance  of  unchangeable  affec- 
tion on  either  side. 

The  following  summer  was  passed  by  Maria  Leycester  in 
a  happy  state  of  tranquillity,  not  unenlivened  by  hope. 
The  summer  was  a  very  hot  one,  and  she  passed  whole 
days  in  the  open  air,  living  under  the  lime-trees,  which 
crown  the  steep  mossy  bank  at  Stoke  Rectory,  with  her 
table  and  books,  reading  "  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen  "  for  the 
first  time,  listening  to  the  Hodnet  bells,  and  existing  in  a 
world  of  her  own,  where  all  was  peace  and  happiness.  The 
Hebers  were  at  this  time  in  London,  Reginald  Heber 
having  been  appointed  preacher  at  Lincoln's  Inn  ;  but  every 
evening,  when  it  became  cool  enough,  Maria  Leycester 
would  mount  her  horse  Psyche  and  ride  over  to  Hodnet 
Rectory  to  visit  their  little  Emily,  who  rewarded  her  with 
her  many  smiles. 

It  was  in  January,  1822,  that  Maria  Leycester  was  first 
told  that  Reginald  Heber  had  accepted  the  bishopric  of 
Calcutta.  A  thunderclap  could  not  have  stunned  her  more. 
To  his  preferment  in  England  she  had  long  and  anxiously 
looked  forward  as  involving  her  own  prospects  also,  but 
for  this  she  was  wholly  unprepared.  It  was  cutting  off 
at  once  not  only  all  present  connection  with  Mr.  Stow,  but 
all  hopes  of  future  preferment ;  it  was  taking  away  the  only 
society  in  which  she  felt  any  interest,  and  the  only  friends 
who  had  ever  been  her  support  and  consolation  in  her 
separation  from  him,  both  in  their  sympathy,  and  the  means 
of  communication  they  afforded.  Whichever  way  she  looked, 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND   HODNET.  51 

her  loss  appeared  heavier.  On  their  return  to  Hodnet 
every  visit  became  more  and  more  melancholy,  as  every- 
thing around  reminded  her  of  their  approaching  departure. 
The  whole  of  Passion  Week  was  spent  by  them  at  Stoke 
Rectory,  and  they  were  then  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Heber's 
favourite  cousin,  Augustus  Hare,  with  whom  Maria  Leycester 
had  become  intimately  acquainted  during  his  many  visits  at 
Hodnet,  and  who  was  also  the  dearest  friend  of  Mr.  Stow. 
It  was  a  party  that  in  happier  times  would  have  been 
delightful,  but  it  was  now  filled  with  too  bitter  recollections 
and  anticipations.  The  spirits,  however,  in  which  Reginald 
Heber  spoke  and  thought  of  this  new  sphere  opened  to  him 
did  much  to  turn  their  thoughts  towards  the  interests  and 
occupations  of  his  future  life.  Each  day  was  employed  in 
walks  to  Hodnet  Rectory,  which  looked  more  and  more 
deserted  as  it  was  gradually  emptied  of  all  its  contents,  and 
little  left  but  the  bare  walls  of  the  rooms  which  had  been 
the  scene  of  so  much  enjoyment.  On  Easter  Sunday  the 
whole  party  went  to  Hodnet  Church,  where  Reginald  Heber 
preached  a  beautiful  and  deeply  affecting  farewell  sermon, 
in  which  he  expressed  his  anxiety  to  partake  with  his  friends 
for  the  last  time  of  the  Holy  Sacrament,  which  he  after- 
wards administered  to  them,  "  as  strengthening  that  feeling 
in  which  alone  they  would  in  future  be  united,  till  the 
East  and  West  should  alike  be  gathered  as  one  fold  under 
one  Shepherd."  On  the  following  day  the  Hebers  left 
Stoke.  Maria  Leycester  walked  up  with  then  to  Hodnet 
for  the  last  time,  and  through  life  remembered  the  kindness 
of  Reginald  Heber  during  that  walk — the  affectionate  man- 
ner in  which  he  tried  to  soothe  her  grief  at  parting  with 


52  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

them,  and  to  talk  of  future  happy  times — the  assurances  he 
gave  her  that  amidst  the  new  interests  of  India  he  should 
often  turn  to  former  friends  and  think  of  the  days  they  had 
passed  together — and  that  they  should  still  ever  be  united 
in  prayer.  The  whole  warmth  of  his  heart  was  shown  in 
those  last  moments,  till  they  parted,  when  he  and  Mrs. 
Heber  turned  in  at  the  gates  of  Hodnet  Hall. 

As  Maria  Leycester  returned  to  Stoke  across  Hodnet 
Heath,  Augustus  Hare  walked  with  her,  and  his  brother-like 
sympathy  and  affection  gave  her  great  comfort,  and  inspired 
her  with  the  utmost  confidence,  especially  as  he  alone, 
except  the  Hebers,  was  acquainted  with  all  the  circum- 
stances of  her  relation  to  Mr.  Stow.  He  spent  the  rest  of 
that  day  at  Stoke,  while  waiting  for  the  coach  which  was  to 
pass  in  the  evening. 

Meantime,  Bishop  Heber  had  made  the  offer  of  his 
Indian  chaplaincy  to  Mr.  Stow,  who  gladly  accepted  it,  in 
the  hope  that  Miss  Leycester  might  consent  to  accompany 
him,  and  that  her  family,  in  the  knowledge  that  she  would 
in  this  case  remain  with  the  Hebers  and  form  part  of  their 
family  circle,  might  be  induced  to  assent  to  their  marriage. 
But  these  hopes  proved  entirely  fruitless  :  and  when  Maria 
Leycester  accompanied  the  Stanleys  to  London  to  see  the 
last  of  the  Hebers,  she  had  an  interview  with  Mr.  Stow  at 
Lincoln's  Inn,  which  she  quite  believed  to  be  a  final  one. 

The  following  letters  belonging  to  this  period  are  not 
without  interest  to  the  story : — 

* 

REGINALD  HEBER  to  AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE. 

"  Hodnet,  March  3,  1823. — I  take  abundant  shame  to 
myself,  my  dear  Augustus,  for  not  having  sooner  answered 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,    AND   HODNET.  53 

one  of  the  most  gratifying  letters  which  I  have  received  for 
many  months  ;  but  you  will,  I  am  sure,  impute  my  silence 
to  any  cause  but  indifference  either  to  the  intelligence  which 
you  communicated  or  to  the  friendship  of  the  kind  com- 
municator. It  was,  indeed,  a  very  great  and  most  unex- 
pected honour  which  the  University  conferred  on  me ;  and, 
perhaps,  the  distinction  of  all  others  which,  if  it  had  been 
named  to  me,  I  should  have  most  desired.  Yet  I  will  fairly 
say  that  I  derived  more  pleasure  still  from  the  kind  and 
cordial  manner  in  which  you  congratulated  me,  and  the 
renewed  conviction  which  I  felt  of  your  regard  and  favour- 
able opinion.  I  heartily  wish  I  may  through  life  retain, 
and  continue  to  deserve  them  both.  Your  cousin  and  I  are 
here  in  the  midst  of  packings  and  leave-takings,  both  un- 
pleasant operations,  and  the  latter  a  very  painful  one.  I  do 
not,  indeed,  feel  so  much  parental  emotion  as  many  people, 
profess  under  similar  circumstances,  and  as  I  myself  partly 
expected  I  should,  in  bidding  adieu  to  the  stones  and  trees 
which  I  have  built  and  planted.  But,  besides  my  mother 
and  sister,  and  besides  the  other  kind  friends  with  whom  I 
have  passed  so  many  hours  here,  there  are  among  my 
parishioners  many  old  persons  whom  I  can  never  expect  to 
meet  again,  and  many,  both  old  and  young,  who  evidently 
lose  me  with  regret,  and  testify  their  concern  in  a  very 
natural  and  touching  manner.  My  comfort  is  that  Emily, 
who  is  as  much  regretted  as  I  can  be,  and  who  has,  if 
possible,  more  ties  than  I  have  to  bind  her  to  England — 
now  that  the  first  struggle  is  over — is  not  only  resigned,  but 
cheerful  and  courageous,  and  as  resolute  as  I  am  to  look 
only  on  the  bright  side  of  the  prospect." 

MARTIN  STOW  to  AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE. 

"  Feb.,  1823. — The  dream  is  at  an  end.     In  losing  the 
Hebers  I  have  lost  Maria  Leycester.     Not  a  hope,  nor  a 


54  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

shadow  of  a  hope,  can  remain.  It  is  not  only  that  Reginald 
was  the  only  quarter  from  which  I  had  the  least  chance  of 
preferment  or  recommendation,  but  they  were  the  only  links 
between  the  Leycesters  and  myself;  they  are  taken  away, 
and  their  departure,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  is  utter  and 
absolute  ruin.  .  .  .  Do  not  think  that  I  suppose  Reginald 
wrong  in  going ;  far  from  it.  I  look  upon  it  as  a  high  and 
noble  self-devotion  to  the  cause  of  God  and  the  good  of 
mankind ;  nor  do  I  know  any  man  whom  I  would  so  wil- 
lingly see  at  Calcutta.  The  difficulties  to  be  encountered 
in  India  are  precisely  those  with  which  he  is  especially 
qualified  to  cope — obstinacy  and  prejudice  on  the  one  side, 
and  notorious  evil  living  on  the  other.  He  is  in  his  own 
person  the  confusion  of  both." 

MARTIN  STOW  to  REGINALD  HEBER. 

"  Rome.  April  10,  1823. — The  last  post  brought  me  your 
kind  letter,  and  I  lose  no  time  in  returning  you  my  sincerest 
thanks  for  the  considerate  kindness  and  attention  to  my 
interest  which  has  led  you  to  make  me  so  noble  an  offer  of 
preferment.  ...  I  do  not  know  whether  Maria  Leycester 
may  have  been  aware  of  your  intention,  or  whether  she 
would  regard  it  as  favourable  or  otherwise  to  our  hopes ;  but 
as  I  can  hardly  suppose  that  you  did  not  mention  it  to  her, 
or  that  she  was  averse  to  the  place,  I  have  ventured  to  en- 
close a  letter  to  her  father,  stating  the  nature  of  the  prefer- 
ment in  my  power,  and  requesting  his  permission  to  declare 
my  affection  to  Maria.  .  .  ." 

MARTIN  STOW  to  MRS.  R.  HEBER. 

"  Rome,  April  14,  1823. — Do  you  think  there  is  any 
chance  of  my  being  able  to  carry  my  dearest  Maria  to  India  ? 
I  think  this  would  give  you  pleasure  ;  we  should  then  have 
so  much  to  remind  us,  even  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  of 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  55 

former  days  of  happiness.  Her  great  love  for  you  both 
would,  I  think,  outweigh  any  personal  objection  of  her  own, 
but  I  fear  that  I  have  scarcely  a  hope  of  her  father's  consent. 
.  .  .  The  little  note  you  have  transmitted  from  Maria  is  so 
mournful,  yet  so  resigned,  so  evidently  without  hope,  that 
it  almost  breaks  my  heart.  .  .  .  Addio,  and  may  God  bless 
you  for  all  you  have  done,  and  intend  to  do,  for  me." 

AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE  to  MRS.  R.  HEBER. 

"May,  1823. — So  Stow  has  accepted!  He  has  written 
to  me  to  implore  me  to  set  before  Maria  Leycester,  not  his 
misery,  but  the  certainty  of  their  love  being  destroyed,  if  he 
goes  to  India  without  her ;  and  to  prove  to  her  how  happy 
she  would  be,  making  one  of  that  circle  in  India,  which  has 
been  so  very  dear  to  her  in  England.  He  wishes  me  to  see 
her  before  his  arrival,  and  as  he  wishes  it,  I  wish  it  too. 
Surely,  you  can  contrive  this  for  me.  Excellent  as  she  is,  I 
am  sure  he  deserves  her,  and  I  am  sure  he  loves  her  enough 
to  make  ten  ordinary  husbands.  Would  it  not  be  a  great 
point  to  familiarise  her  mind  to  the  possibility  of  going  to 
India?  So  many  excellent  things  are  never  done,  because 
the  parties  concerned  vote  them  impossible — '  Cela  ne  se 
fait  pas '  is  the  only  argument  to  which  I  can  never  find  an 
answer.  It  is  out  of  my  power  to  say  how  anxious  I  feel 
that  this  matter  should  be  brought  to  a  good  issue.  Object- 
less for  myself,  and  loving  no  one  (in  the  technical  sense  of 
the  word,  for  in  its  more  enlarged  meaning  God  knows  I 
love  many  people,  among  others,  you  and  Reginald  much), 
all  my  wishes  tend  to  furthering  the  love  of  a  friend  from 
whom,  during  the  last  twelve  years,  I  have  received  so 
many  marks  of  confidence  and  affection,  and  some  real 
services  that  no  other,  perhaps,  could  or  would  have 
rendered  me — scoldings,  by  the  way,  not  a  few,  among  the 
number." 


56  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

The  meeting  at  Lincoln's  Inn  was  not  the  last.  When 
Mr.  Stow  was  about  to  leave  England,  he  could  not  resist 
the  desire  of  seeing  Miss  Leycester  once  more,  and  followed 
her  to  Cheshire.  Their  last  meeting  was  in  the  beech-wood 
at  Alderley.  Augustus  Hare  then  accompanied  his  friend 
into  Cheshire,  and  remained  with  him  till  the  ist  of 
October,  when  he  sailed  for  India  in  the  Ganges*  with  his 
sister. 

In  the  following  winter,  during  visits  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  London,  Augustus  Hare  was  the  only  person  Miss 
Leycester  had  any  pleasure  in  seeing,  and  she  gratefully 
received  his  kindness  and  sympathy.  Though  he  was 
more  reserved  and  cautious  in  speaking  of  the  future 
than  he  had  hitherto  been,  he  talked  much  of  past 
days,  and  but  to  hear  and  talk  of  them  was  sufficient 
happiness  for  her.  From  him  she  learnt  of  the  safe 
arrival  of  the  Ganges  in  India,  and  of  the  welfare  and 
well-being  of  his  friend. 

Meantime  (in  1823,  1824),  Maria  Leycester's  home  life 
was  diversified,  and  her  attention  to  a  certain  degree  diverted 
from  sorrowful  thoughts,  by  many  visits  to  Knowsley,  and  by 
the  happy  marriage  of  her  brother  Edward  (Dec.  16,  1823) 
to  Charlotte,  eldest  daughter  of  Lord  Stanley,  and  grand- 
daughter of  the  twelfth  Earl  of  Derby. 

On  the  ist  of  February,  1825,  Maria  Leycester  went  to 
Shavington  to  visit  her  friend,  Lady  Frances  Needham, 
from  whom  she  had  long  been  separated,  and  to  her,  whose 
sympathy  she  had  always  received,  she  spoke  much  of  her 
prospects  and  hopes,  regardless  of  the  sad  tone  in  which  she 
was  answered,  and  the  turn  which  Lady  Frances  judiciously 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND   HODNET.  57 

gave  to  the  conversation.  The  visit  was  to  have  lasted 
some  days,  but,  on  the  second  day,  there  came  a  note  from 
Stoke,  begging  that  Miss  Leycester  would  return  home 
immediately.  It  excited  her  surprise,  but  nothing  more, 
till  the  sudden  recollection  that  Lady  Frances  had  disap- 
peared from  the  room  on  receipt  of  a  similar  note,  awakened 
alarm.  But  in  vain  did  Maria  Leycester  seek  to  discover 
its  contents  from  her  friend,  and  in  all  the  wretchedness  of 
suspense  she  rode  home,  feeling  an  inward  conviction  that 
the  blow,  in  some  form  or  other,  must  come  from  Alderley, 
as  there  was  no  other  quarter  from  which,  in  her  absence, 
she  imagined  her  family  would  have  heard.  She  turned  to 
every  possible  and  impossible  shape  she  thought  it  could 
assume,  but  of  the  right  one  never  did  a  moment's  suspicion 
cross  her  mind.  She  reached  Stoke,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  truth  was  before  her — Martin  Stow  had  died  of  fever  at 
Dacca,  on  the  i;th  of  July,  1824  ! 

REGINALD  HEBER  to  AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE. 

"  Dela serry  River,  near  Dacca,  July  22,  1824. — My  dear 
Augustus, — Little  did  I  anticipate  when  we  parted,  with 
how  heavy  a  heart  I  should  commence  what  (I  am  almost 
ashamed  to  say)  is  my  first  letter  to  you.  We  have  lost 
poor  Stow !  He  set  out  with  me  five  weeks  since  on  my 
visitation,  leaving  his  sister  with  Emily  and  her  children, 
who  were  dissuaded  by  our  medical  advisers  from  accom- 
panying me  on  the  formidable  journey  ;  but  whom  we 
hoped  to  meet  in  February  next  at  Bombay,  whither  they 
were  to  proceed  by  sea,  while  we  found  our  way  across  the 
continent,  through  Rajpoohana  and  Malwa.  Stow  had 
been  seriously  ill  in  Calcutta,  of  something  like  a  dysentery  ; 
but  it  was  anticipated  by  everybody  that  a  sail  of  three 


58  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

months  on  the  Ganges,  and  a  subsequent  journey  to  a 
cooler  climate  would  be  of  the  utmost  service  to  him,  and 
he  was  not  only  permitted,  but  strongly  advised  by  Dr. 
Abel  to  accompany  me.  These  favourable  expectations 
seemed  verified  by  the  experience  of  our  first  fortnight ;  the 
cool  breeze  of  the  river  seemed  to  revive  him  most  essen- 
tially, and  his  spirits  and  appetite  increased  perceptibly, 
while  he  took  an  increasing  interest  in  the  wild  and  seques- 
tered, but  beautiful  and  luxuriant  scenes  through  which  we 
passed,  while  threading  the  great  Delta  of  the  Ganges  in  our 
way  to  Dacca.  Unhappily,  as  his  strength  returned,  he 
became  less  cautious ;  he  one  evening  particularly  exposed 
himself  to  the  sun  while  yet  high,  and  to  the  worst  miasma 
which  this  land  of  death  affords,  by  running  into  a  marsh 
after  some  wild  ducks.  From  that  time  his  disorder  re- 
turned, and  he  reached  Dacca  on  the  5th  of  this  month 
so  weak  and  exhausted,  as  to  be  carried  from  the  boat  to 
the  bedroom  prepared  for  him.  The  means  of  cure  usually 
employed  were  tried  without  success.  He  struggled,  how- 
ever, against  the  complaint  with  a  strength  which  surprised 
both  his  medical  attendants  and  myself,  and  which  long 
flattered  us,  alas,  with  a  delusive  hope  of  his  recovery. 
During  the  three  last  days  of  his  life,  he  was  fully  sensible 
of  his  approaching  end,  and  I  trust  I  shall  never  forget 
the  earnestness  of  his  prayers,  the  severity  and  deep  con- 
trition with  which  he  scrutinized  all  the  course  of  his 
(surely)  innocent  and  useful  life ;  the  humility  and  self-abase- 
ment with  which  he  cast  himself  on  God's  mercy  through 
Christ,  or  the  blessed  and  still  brightening  hope  which — 
after  his  first  mental  struggle  was  over — it  pleased  his 
gracious  Master  to  send  him.  He  sent  his  love  to  you 
with  a  request  that  all  his  papers  might  be  sent  to  you  '  to 
do  what  you  thought  best  with  them.'  He  observed  that 
the  annive/sary  was  just  passed  of  the  day  in  which  he 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND    HODNET.  59 

parted  with  M.  L.  in  the  woods  of  Alderley.  '  Dear,  dear 
Maria  ! '  he  said,  '  I  hope  God  is  not  offended  with  me  for 
thinking  of  her  in  this  hour.'  He  often  named  his  '  poor 
sister,'  recommending  her  to  Emily's  care  and  mine.  But 
all  the  rest  of  his  time  was  occupied  in  praying,  with  me, 
or  mentally,  and  in  listening  to  different  texts  of  Scripture, 
which  he  took  great  delight  in  my  reading  to  him.  '  God,' 
he  said  on  Friday  evening — '  God  and  his  dear  Son  are 
mercifully  making  this  passage  more  and  more  easy  to  me.' 
He  slept  very  little,  being  interrupted  by  constant  spasms. 
At  length,  in  the  course  of  Saturday,  a  slight  wandering 
came  on,  though  he  never  ceased  to  know  me,  or  to  express 
uneasiness  if,  by  any  alteration  of  position,  or  any  other 
cause,  he,  for  a  moment,  lost  sight  of  me.  His  end  was 
visibly  fast  approaching,  and  his  face  had  assumed  that 
unequivocal  character  which  belongs  to  the  dying,  when  he 
called  me  closer  to  him  and  said  in  a  half  whisper,  '  Do 
you  think  I  shall  see  my  poor,  poor  sister  to-night?'  I 
could  not  help  answering,  '  It  was  by  no  means  impossible.' 
I  know  not  in  what  sense  he  meant  the  question;  but, 
indeed,  I  cannot  think  it  even  unlikely  that  the  spirit  of  a 
just  man  may  be  permitted  for  a  time  to  hover  over  those 
objects  it  has  loved  most  tenderly.  Some  violent  but  short 
spasms  succeeded,  after  which  he  sank  into  a  calm  slumber, 
and  a  few  minutes  after  twelve,  literally  breathed  his  last, 
without  a  struggle  or  groan.  I  myself  closed  his  eyes,  and, 
with  the  help  of  a  surgeon  (whom,  in  the  forlorn  hope  of 
some  favourable  turn  taking  place,  I  had  got  to  remain  in 
the  house  the  last  three  nights),  composed  his  limbs.  It 
was  necessary  that  we  should  do  this,  since  the  superstition 
of  the  wretched  people  round  us  had  put  them  to  flight. 

"  He  was  buried  in  the  evening  of  the  next  day  (Sunday, 
the  1 8th),  in  the  cemetery  of  the  station,  which,  that  day 
week,  I  had  consecrated.  A  wild  and  dismal  place  it  is,  as 


60  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

ever  Christian  laid  his  bones  in,  at  about  a  mile's  distance 
from  the  inhabited  part  of  Dacca,  but  surrounded  by  ruins 
and  jungle,  and  containing  several  tall,  ruinous  tombs  of 
former  residents  in  the  days  when  the  commerce  of  this 
province  was  the  most  important  in  India.  Some  of  these 
have  been  very  handsome,  but  all  are  now  dilapidated,  and 
overgrown  with  ivy  and  the  wild  fig-tree.  There  is,  however, 
a  high  wall,  with  an  old  Moorish  gateway,  which  protects  the 
graves  effectually  from  the  jackals,  and  I  have  given  direc- 
tions for  a  plain  monument  to  be  erected  over  my  poor 
friend.  His  illness,  his  youth,  his  amiable  manners  with 
the  few  in  Dacca  who  saw  him,  and  his  general  character, 
excited  a  great  sensation  in  the  place.  Inquiries  came 
every  day,  with  presents  of  fruit,  or  often  of  books,  which 
might  elucidate  his  distemper  or  amuse  him,  and  similar 
marks  of  attention  and  interest,  not  only  from  the  English 
residents,  but  from  the  Nawab,  from  the  principal  Zemindar 
of  the  neighbourhood,  and  from  the  Armenian  Bishops  of 
Ecmiazin  and  Jerusalem,  whom  I  met  here,  engaged  in  a 
still  larger  visitation  than  my  own,  of  the  different  churches 
of  their  communion  in  Persia  and  India.  All  the  English 
residents,  and  the  officers  from  the  military  lines,  with  a 
detachment  of  artillerymen,  came,  unsolicited,  to  his 
funeral.  We  were  the  guests  of  Mr.  Masters,  the  principal 
judge,  whose  nephew  you  may  have  known  at  Baliol; 
and  from  him  more  particularly,  and  from  Mr.  Mitford, 
the  junior  judge,  brother  to  my  friend  Mitford  of  Oriel, 
we  received  daily  and  unwearied  kindness.  Mrs.  Mitford, 
on  finding  that  poor  Miss  Stow  thought  of  setting  off 
for  Dacca  to  nurse  her  brother,  not  only  wrote  to  ask 
her  to  their  house,  but  offered  to  accelerate  a  journey  which 
Mr.  M.  and  she  were  meditating  to  Calcutta,  in  order  to 
take  care  of  her  in  the  dismal  homeward  voyage.  I  trust, 
however,  that  my  letters  would  arrive  in  time  to  stop  her, 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND   HODNET.  6l 

and  lest  they  should  not  have  done  so,  I  am  now  diverging 
from  the  great  stream  which  is  my  direct  course  towards 
Patna,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  she  has  really  set  out, 
and,  if  so,  to  meet  and  take  her  at  least  the  greater  part  of 
me  way  back  again. 

"  Emily  had  entreated,  on  hearing  the  first  alarm,  that,  in 
the  event  of  poor  Stow's  death  or  inability  to  proceed,  I 
would  not  refuse  her  permission  to  join  me  at  the  Rajamehal 
Hills,  and  to  go  with  me,  at  whatever  risk,  through  the  rest 
of  the  journey ;  and  I  know  her  so  well  that,  though  there 
will  certainly  be  some  circumstances  trying  to  her  strength, 
I  am  disposed  to  believe  she  would  suffer  more  by  not  being 
allowed  to  follow  me ;  so  that,  in  about  a  month's  time,  I 
may  hope  to  see  her  and  my  children.  Whether  Miss  Stow 
will  accompany  them,  or  immediately  return  to  England, 
I  know  not;  her  brother  seemed  to  think  she  would 
prefer  the  former,  and  I  have  written  to  invite  her  to  do 
so.  Yet,  alas  !  what  motive  has  she  now  for  lingering  in 
India  ? 

"  This  is  the  second  old  and  valued  friend  (poor  Sir  C. 
Puller  was  the  first,  though  my  intimacy  with  Stow  was  far 
greater)  which  this  cruel  climate  has  within  a  few  months 
robbed  me  of.  In  the  meantime,  I  have  great  reason  for 
thankfulness  that,  in  all  essential  points,  my  own  health  has 
remained  firm  ;  that  my  dear  wife,  though  she  has  been  an 
invalid,  has  been  so  from  causes  unconnected  with  the 
climate ;  and  that  my  children  are  pictures  of  health  and 
cheerfulness.  How  long  this  is  to  continue,  God  knows,  and 
I  thank  Him  that  my  confidence  in  his  mercy  and  protec- 
tion has  not  yet  been  shaken.  Meantime,  I  am  far  from 
repenting  my  coming  out  to  India,  where  I  am  sure  I  am 
not  idle,  and  hope  I  am  not  useless — though  I  have,  alas  ! 
fallen  far  short  of  my  own  good  intentions,  and  have  failed, 
to  a  greater  extent  than  I  expected,  in  conciliating  the 


62  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

respective  bigots  of  the  High  and  Low  Church  parties. 
But  I  cannot  help  feeling  most  painfully  the  loss  of  my  most 
sincerely  attached  and  intelligent  friend,  to  whom,  under 
any  difficulty,  I  could  open  myself  without  reserve — whose 
cheerful  conversation  was  delightful  to  me  in  health,  and  to 
whose  affectionate  solicitude  and  prayers  I  looked  forward 
as  a  sure  resource  in  sorrow  or  in  sickness. 

"  I  write  this  letter  from  my  boat.  I  am  writing  also  to 
Mrs.  Stanley,  to  beg  her  to  break  the  sad  tidings  to  Maria. 
But  I  have  been  so  long  in  my  letter  to  you,  that  mine  to 
her  must  be  a  short  one.  If  you  think  these  details  likely 
to  interest  them,  you  may  send  this  letter.  God  bless  you, 
dear  Augustus. 

"  Ever  yours  affectionately, 

"  R.  CALCUTTA." 

MRS.  STANLEY  to  AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE. 

"  Alderley,  Feb.  5,  1825. —  ....  I  feel  for  you  truly.  I 
know  what  you  have  lost,  and  how  you  valued  him  you  have 
proved  too  well.  I  fear  there  is  no  hope  now,  the  news 
coming  from  two  other  distinct  quarters  is  only  too  strong 
confirmation.  I  shall  be  thankful  if  Maria  can  be  kept  in 
ignorance  till  not  a  shadow  of  doubt  remains,  for  in  her 
present  state  I  should  dread  anxiety  more  even  than  grief 

for  her It  will  be  a  relief  to  you  to  know  that  Mrs. 

Leycester  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  let  her  mount  her 
horse  and  ride  to  Shavington,  while  she  was  actually 
engaged  in  the  act  of  reading  your  first  letter,  taking  the 
precaution  of  writing  to  Lady  Fanny  Needham  to  say 
that  unpleasant  reports  were  afloat  from  India,  and 
begging  her  to  take  care  that  Maria  did  not  see  a  paper 
unguardedly. 

"  However  melancholy  the  source  of  our  acquaintance  will 
now  be  to  us  both,  let  me  trust  it  will  still  be  continued,  and 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND   HODNET.  63 

that  no  opportunity  of  improving  it  will  be  neglected.  I 
shall  ever  feel  the  warmest  interest  in  you,  and  a  high  value 
for  your  friendship.  I  shall  write  to  you  again  without 
scruple,  if  there  is  anything  to  say  about  my  sister  that  you 
will  like  to  know,  and  I  do  know  you  will  be  anxious  about 
her. 

Feb.  6. — I  have  heard  again  from  Mrs.  Leycester,  who 
dreaded  Maria's  hearing  at  Shavington,  and  made  an 
excuse  to  send  for  her  home ;  and,  after  that  preparation, 
broke  the  news. 

"  Feb.  28. — I  have  been  to  Stoke,  and  after  being  with 
Maria  for  a  few  days,  she  improved  more  than  *I  dared  to 
hope  at  first.  Constant  talking  on  the  subject  with  the 
greatest  freedom  relieved  her,  and  when  I  left  her  about  ten 
days  ago  she  could  do  this  with  calmness.  I  left  my  two 
little  children  with  her,  and  she  was  able  to  play  with  and 
talk  to  them  when  she  could  do  nothing  else." 

AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE  to  (HIS  AUNT)  LADY  JONES. 

"  Feb.    3. — Truly    Stow    was,    after    yourself   and    my 

brothers,  the  person  I  most  had  loved  in  the  world 

He  was  the  only  person  with  whom  Reginald  would  lay 
aside  the  bishop,  an  indescribable  happiness  to  a  man  of 
his  simple  turn  of  mind.  With  him,  and  with  him  alone, 
Reginald  could  be  and  could  feel  as  he  formerly  did  by  his 
rectory  fireside.  Now  that  is  over.  I  need  not  say  how 
much  he  would  have  gained  himself  by  what  he  would  have 
seen  and  done,  for  he  is  now  gaining  and  learning  infinitely 
more.  As  he  was  to  be  taken  from  me,  thank  God  it  was 
in  God's  service.  It  was  in  doing  what  the  Apostles,  had 
they  been  alive  now,  would  have  been  doing  too,  and  be- 
cause he  was  doing  it,  that  he  died.  This  fact  is  like  a  rock 
of  comfort  to  me.  There  is  no  moving  or  shaking  the  con- 


64  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

viction  that  those  who  die  for  God  shall  also  live  with  Him. 
He  is  quite  safe." 

M.  L.  to  AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE. 

"  I  must  write  a  few  lines,  although  I  feel  it  almost  need- 
less to  do  so,  for  Augustus  Hare  knows  all  my  feelings  too 
well  to  doubt  what  they  must  be  now.  I  have  received  every 
comfort  that  the  tenderest,  the  most  affectionate  kindness 
could  give ;  but  it  is  to  you  I  turn  as  the  sharer,  the  fellow- 
sufferer,  in  my  grief.  You  only  know  what  the  loss  is.  I 
cannot  help  at  times  feeling  that  if  I  had  been  there  this 
might  not  have  happened,  but  I  believe  it  is  presumption  to 
think  so.  The  God  who  has  willed  to  take  him  away  had 
the  power  to  have  preserved  him  had  He  seen  fit  to  do  so, 
and  ought  we  not  to  rejoice  that  his  spirit  is  removed  from  a 
world  of  sighing  and  sorrow  to  one  where  it  will  be  perfected 
in  happiness  and  joy  ?  I  have  not  felt  the  resignation  I 
ought  to  have  done,  but  sorrow  is  very,  very  selfish.  I  am 
sensible  that  I  have  much  to  be  grateful  for,  that  few  women 
have  had  the  happiness  of  being  loved  with  affection  so 
strong  and  so  disinterested — few  can  have  had  the  means 
of  loving  such  excellence  and  noble-mindedness ;  but  to 
feel  that  this  is  gone  for  ever,  and  that  we  can  live  only  in 
the  past,  is  very  hard  to  bear ;  and  yet  when  I  think  of  that 
sister  to  whom  he  was  friend,  protector,  everything — I  feel 
it  almost  wrong  to  grieve  for  myself.  I  know  that  if  you 
can  you  will  come  here.  When  we  have  once  met  it  will 
be  a  comfort  to  mourn  together.  I  look  to  one  only  source 
of  comfort,  and  you  too,  my  dear  friend,  must,  in  a  Hope 
which  can  never  fail,  seek  for  that  consolation  which  nothing 
earthly  can  afford," 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  .    65 

Here  our  narration  must  pause.  Augustus  Hare  and  his 
family  have  henceforward  so  large  a  share  in  it,  that  it 
seems  necessary  to  go  back  into  their  lives,  and  connect 
their  story  with  this. 


VOL.  L 


III. 

THE  HARES  OF  HURSTMONCEAUX. 

"  The  true  Past  departs  not,  nothing  that  was  worthy  in  tl»e 
Past  departs ;  no  Truth  or  Goodness  realised  by  man  ever 
dies,  or  can  die  ;  but  all  is  still  here,  and,  recognised  or  not, 
lives  and  works  through  endless  changes."  —  CARLYLK'S 
Essays. 

T  ESS  than  four  miles  from  the  Sussex  coast,  at  the 
point  where  the  huge  remains  of  the  Roman  Anderida 
break  the  otherwise  monotonous  sea-line,  but  divided  from 
the  sea  by  the  flat  marsh  meadow-lands  known  as  Pevensey 
Level,  stand  the  ruins  of  Hurstmonceaux  Castle.  Once, 
before  the  Level  was  reclaimed,  the  sea  itself  must  have 
rolled  in  almost  as  far  as  the  ancient  manor-house  which 
preceded  the  castle  upon  the  same  site ;  and  the  plain  is 
still  wholly  uninhabited,  except  by  one  or  two  farmers, 
who  watch  over  the  immense  herds  of  cattle  which  pasture 
there,  and  who  live  in  small  houses  amid  solitary  tufts  of 
trees,  on  slight  rising-grounds,  which  were  once  islands, 
and  whose  names  still  show  their  origin,  in  the  ancient 
termination  of  ey,  or  island,  as  in  Pevensey,  Horsey, 
Langney.  From  the  churchyard  above  the  castle,  the  view 
is  very  strange,  looking  down  upon  the  green,  pathless 


THE   HARES    OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  67 

flat,  into  the  confines  of  which  no  one  ever  wanders  except 
the  cowherds,  or  those  who  cross  to  Pevensey  by  the 
distant  highroad.  The  church  and  castle  are  literally  the 
last  buildings  on  the  edge  of  a  desert. 

The  castle  is  still  most  grand  and  stately  in  its  premature 
decay;  nothing  can  be  more  picturesque  than  its  huge 
front  of  red  brick,  grown  grey  here  and  there  with  lichens 
and  weather-stains,  than  its  arched  gateway  and  boldly 
projecting  machicolations,  or  the  flowing  folds  of  ivy  with 
which  it  is  overhung.  Though  only  built  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VI.,  it  is  said  to  have  been  the  earliest  large  brick 
building  in  England,  after  the  time  of  Richard  II.,  when  De 
la  Pole's  house  was  built  of  brick  at  Kingston-on-Hull ;  and 
it  is  considered  a  most  valuable  specimen  of  the  transition 
of  domestic  building  from  a  fortress  to  a  manor-house.  The 
front  is  pierced  with  loop-holes  for  crossbows,  and  oeillets 
for  the  discharge  of  matchlock  guns,  which  are  relics  of  the 
former  intention,  while  the  large  windows  of  the  dwelling- 
rooms,  and  more  especially  the  noble  oriel  known  as  "  the 
Ladies'  Bower,"  are  witnesses  to  the  latter.  Bishop  Littleton,* 
writing  in  1757,  states  his  opinion  that  Hurstmonceaux  was 
at  that  time  the  largest  inhabited  house  in  England  be- 
longing to  any  subject,  its  rival,  Audley  End,  having  been 
then  partially  destroyed. 

Unfortunately  the  castle  is  built  in  a  damp  hollow,  and, 
as  Horace  Walpole  observes,f  "  for  convenience  of  water  to 
the  moat,  it  sees  nothing  at  all."  All  the  present  sur- 
roundings of  the  building  are  in  melancholy  harmony  with 

*  Archaeologia,  vol.  ii.  p.  147. 

f  Walpole's  Letters,  edit.  1837,  vol.  i.  p.  176. 


68  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

its  condition.  Dim  mists,  which  float  upwards  from  the 
great  dykes  of  the  marsh,  shroud  the  whole  hollow  towards 
evening,  and  seem  prophetic  of  rheumatism  and  ague.  The 
moat,  which  even  in  Elizabeth's  time  was  converted  into  a 
garden  for  the  sake  of  salubrity,  is  now  an  undraine^1 
wilderness  of  dank  grass  and  rushes  ;  beside  it,  a  line  of  tall 
Spanish  chestnuts  fling  up  their  antler-like  boughs  against 
the  sky,  and  are  nearly  the  only  relic  of  the  many  stately 
avenues  which  once  crossed  the  park  in  every  direction. 
Almost  all  the  other  trees  near  it  are  cut  down,  or  blown 
down  by  the  salt-winds,  which  blow  savagely  over  the  un- 
guarded hill-side,  and  only  a  few  mutilated  beeches,  a  few 
plantations  of  the  last  century,  and  some  thickets  of  furze, 
which  afford  shelter  for  innumerable  rabbits,  remain  to 
show  where  rich  vegetation  has  once  existed,  and  to  con- 
trast with  the  brown  turf,  which  scantily  covers  the  poor 
unproductive  soil.  Ivy  alone  flourishes,  clinging  and 
clustering  about  the  walls  with  a  destroying  vigour,  which 
makes  one  regret  the  day  when  old  Marchant,  the  gar- 
dener, who  died  only  a  few  years  ago,  used  to  tell  us  that 
he  "  turned  the  first  plant  out  of  a  penny  flower-pot."  But 
that  which  contributes  most  to  the  sadness  of  the  place, 
is  the  shortness  of  the  time  since  it  fell  into  decay,  for 
less  than  a  hundred  years  ago  the  castle  was  perfect  and 
inhabited,  the  antler-hung  hall  was  filled  with  guests, 
Horace  Walpole  was  coming  down  from  London  to  hunt  up 
the  antiquities,  and  Addison  was  writing  a  play  about  the 
castle  ghost-story.*  Now,  not  a  single  room  remains 
perfect,  but  the  empty  mullions  of  the  windows  frame  broad 
*  See  "  The  Haunted  House,"  Addison's  Works,  vol  ii. 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  69 

strips  of  blue  Sussex  sky,  and  in  the  interior  the  turf  is 
everywhere  strewn  with  masses  of  red  and  yellow  brickwork, 
which  lovers  of  Rome  have  compared  to  the  huge  fragments 
which  litter  the  Baths  of  Caracalla. 

The  name  Hurstmonceaux  is  a  combination  of  the  Saxon 
word  "  hurst,"  meaning  a  wood,  and  "  Monceaux,"  the  title 
of  one  of  its  lords,  who  came  over  with  the  Conqueror.* 
The  family  of  Monceaux  built  the  early  manor-house,  which 
existed  long  before  the  castle,  and  was  coeval  with  the 
foundation  of  the  church  on  the  adjoining  hill.  In  the 
time  of  Waleran  de  Monceaux  (1264),  Henry  IH.t  visited 
and  slept  in  this  building,  and  one  of  his  nobles,  Roger  de 
Tournay,  was  accidentally  killed  by  an  arrow  as  he  was 
hunting  in  the  park.  In  the  reign  of  Edward  II.,  Maude 
de  Monceaux  brought  the  castle  by  marriage  to  Sir  John 
Fienes.  The  head  of  this  family  bore  the  title  of  Lord 
Dacre  of  the  South.  In  1405,  died  William  Fienes,  whose 
magnificent  brass  remains  in  front  of  the  altar  of  the  church. 
In  1440,  the  old  manor-house  where  William  Fienes  died 
was  pulled  down  by  Sir  Roger  Fienes,  Treasurer  of  the 
Household  to  Henry  V.,  by  whom  the  present  castle  was 
built,  at  a  cost  of  ^3,8oo.J 

In  1534,  died  Thomas,  second  Lord  Dacre,  whose  grand 
altar-tomb  in  Hurstmonceaux  Church  bears  his  effigy,  with 
that  of  his  son  Thomas,  who  died  before  him.  It  was  the 
grandson  of  this  Lord  Dacre,  and  not  himself,  as  Horace 
Walpole  affirms,  who  was  beheaded  in  his  twenty-fourth 


*  Sussex  Archseol.,  vol  iv.  p.  128.  t  Id.,  p.  134. 

J  Pat.  Roll.,  19  Hen.  VI.,  "licentia  kemellandi." 


70  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

year  on  Tower  Hill  *  for  accidentally  killing  a  gamekeeper 
in  Laughton  Park,t  "  chiefly,"  says  Camden,  "  because  of 
his  great  estate,  which  needy  courtiers  gasped  after,  and 
which  caused  them  to  hasten  his  destruction."  J  In  1593, 
his  daughter  Margaret,  Baroness  Dacre,  brought  the  pro- 
perty by  marriage  (for  the  strictness  of  the  entail  saved  the 
estates  from  forfeiture)  to  Sampson  Lennard,  described  by 
Camden  as  "  of  great  worth  and  politeness,"  with  whom  she 
lived  in  the  castle.  This  couple  built  the  great  staircase, 
and  adorned  the  chimney-pieces  with  carving  in  stone,  and 
they  are  buried  at  Chevening  under  a  splendid  monument. 
Their  grandson  Richard,  Lord  Dacre  (the  builder  of 
Chevening),  died  at  Hurstmonceaux,  and  was  buried  there, 
August  1 8,  1650.  The  last  Lord  Dacre  (Thomas)  who 
possessed  Hurstmonceaux  married  Lady  Anne  Fitzroy,  a 
natural  daughter  of  Charles  II.  by  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland, 
and  they  adorned  the  castle  with  fine  carvings  by  Gibbons. 
In  1708,  Thomas,  Lord  Dacre,  sold  Hurstmonceaux  to 
George  Naylor,  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  who  was  a  very  handsome 
man,  of  stately  presence  and  large  fortune.  His  wife,  who 
was  a  picturesque  little  woman  with  curls,  sparkling  eyes, 
and  a  snub-nose, §  was  Lady  Grace  Holies,  sister  of  Thomas 
Pelham,  first  Duke  of  Newcastle. 

George  Naylor  and  Lady  Grace  were  married  in  1705, 
and  kept  a  most  bountiful  house  at  Hurstmonceaux,  where 

*  This  is  the  subject  of  a  tragedy  by  Mrs.  Gore, 
f  Hollinshed    says    the    catastrophe  occurred  at  "  Pikehaie "   in 
Hellingly,  a  parish  joining  Hurstmonceaux  on  the  west. 
J  Camden's  Britannia. 
§  See  their  portraits  by  Sir  P.  Lely. 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMGNCEAUX.  71 

all  guests  were  hospitably  received,  according  to  their 
degree,  while  butts  of  beer  were  left  standing  at  the  park 
gates  for  the  refreshment  of  chance  passers-by.  If  the 
exterior  of  the  castle  was  damp  and  gloomy,  it  was  amply 
atoned  for  within  the  walls.  The  visitor,  upon  crossing  the 
bridge,  was  received  in  a  vaulted  portico,  on  one  side  of 
which  the  porter  had  his  lodge.  Hence  he  entered  the 
great  courtyard,  generally  known  as  "the  Green  Court," 
surrounded  by  slender  pillars  of  brick,  and  shaded  in  part 
by  the  great  holly  which  stood  i^\  the  centre  of  the  quad- 
rangle, and  of  which  a  fragment  still  remains  in  the  ruins. 
Above  the  cloisters,  a  line  of  w  idows  on  every  side  lighted 
the  galleries  into  which  the  r  incipal  apartments  opened 
upon  the  upper  floor.  That  in  the  left  was  called  the 
Bethlehem  Gallery,  and  was  hung  from  end  to  end  with  gilt 
stamped  leather,  a  fragment  of  which,  Dame  Burchett,  an 
old  woman  in  a  red  cloak,  who  showed  the  castle  till  a  few 
years  ago,  used  to  wear  in  her  bosom  as  a  kind  of  talisman, 
till  the  day  of  her  death.  This,  and  the  other  courtyards, 
were  always  kept  bright  and  free  from  weeds  by  twenty  old 
crones,  who  were  constantly  employed  about  the  place 
under  the  title  of  "  the  castle  weeding  women."  Immediately 
beyond  the  Green  Court  was  the  great  hall,  paved  with 
square  glazed  tiles,  and  covered  by  an  open  timber  roof, 
whose  massive  beams  were  supported  on  corbels  adorned 
with  the  alant  or  wolf-dog — the  badge  of  the  Dacres,  and 
which  ended  in  a  music-gallery.  Beyond  the  hall  was  the 
Pantry  Court,  whose  picturesque  gable  lighted  the  great 
staircase  built  by  Margaret,  Baroness  Dacre,  which  led  to 
the  upper  galleries,  of  which  the  Green  Gallery,  hung  with 


72  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

green  cloth,  was  filled  with  pictures,  and  the  Bethlehem 
Gallery  derived  its  name  from  the  guest-rooms  which 
opened  into  it,  and  which  were  always  reserved  for  the 
entertainment  of  strangers.  Beyond  the  Pantry  Court  a 
paved  passage  led  to  a  gateway  and  bridge,  opening  upon 
the  garden.  On  the  right  of  the  main  artery  of  the  castle, 
occupying  the  east  front,  were  the  principal  dwelling 
apartments,  including  the  great  drawing-room,  adorned  by 
the  Earl  of  Sussex,  where  a  vine,  the  masterpiece  of  Grinling 
Gibbons,  was  represented  as  springing  out  of  the  ground 
near  the  fireplace,  and  spreading  its  branches  and  tendrils 
over  the  ceiling,  whose  pendants  were  formed  by  the 
hanging  bunches  of  grapes ;  the  chapel,  whose  tall  windows 
contained  "  the  seven  long  lean  saints  ill  done,"  described 
by  Horace  Walpole ;  and  on  the  upper  floor,  "  the  Ladies' 
Bower,"  whose  peculiar  oriel  window  is  so  conspicuous  a 
feature.  On  the  west  side  of  the  castle  were  the  kitchen 
and  bakehouse  (in  the  great  oven  of  which,  guide  books 
declare  that  a  coach  and  six  could  turn  with  facility),  and  a 
small  court,  known  as  the  Pump  Court.  The  chambers  on 
the  upper  floor  are  described  by  Grose  as  "sufficient  to 
lodge  a  garrison."  "  One  was  bewildered,"  he  says,  "  by 
the  galleries  that  led  to  them,  while  on  every  window  was 
painted  on  the  glass  the  alant,  or  wolf-dog,  the  ancient 
supporters  of  the  family  of  Fiennes. 

In  the  time  of  Lady  Grace  Naylor,  these  vast  suites  of 
guest-chambers  were  constantly  filled  with  visitors,  who 
frequently  included  the  lady's  own  two  brothers,  both  im- 
portant persons  of  their  time.  That  Thomas  Holies,  Duke 
of  Newcastle,  did  not  forget  the  poor  friends  he  made  while 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  73 

staving  with  his  sister,  is  testified  by  a  weather-beaten 
tombstone  still  standing  beneath  the  vestry  window  of 
Hurstmonceaux  Church,  and  inscribed  to  the  memory  of 
"  Richard  Morris,  who  died  the  2ist  day  of  July,  1749, 
aged  sixty-three,  who  himself  desired  that  it  might  be 
remembered  that  he  owed  his  bread  to  his  grace  the  Duke 
of  Newcastle,  his  great  benefactor."  * 

An  aunt  of  George  Naylor  had  married  Richard  Hare, 
the  descendant  of  a  family  which  had  been  settled  at  Leigh, 
in  Essex,  for  many  generations,  and  had  died,  leaving  an 
only  son,  Francis,  who  was  a  Fellow  of  King's  College, 
Cambridge,  where  he  had  formed  an  intimate  friendship  with 
Sir  Robert  Walpole,  and  where  he  had  the  care  of  John, 
Marquis  of  Blandford,  only  son  of  the  great  Duke  of 
Marlborough,  who  died  in  his  college  of  small-pox,  in  1702, 
and  is  buried  there  in  the  chapel,  under  a  monument,  which 
bears  a  long  Latin  epitaph,  composed  by  his  tutor,  t 

In  1704,  Francis  Hare  was  appointed  Chaplain-General 
to  the  army  in  Flanders,  under  John,  Duke  of  Marlborough, 
and  was  present  at  the  battles  of  Blenheim  and  Ramilies. 
He  described  the  campaign  in  a  valuable  series  of  letters 
to  his  cousin  at  Hurstmonceaux,  and  in  a  journal,  pre- 

*  This  Duke  of  Newcastle  married  Henrietta,  daughter  of  the  Duke 
of  Marlborough,  in  1717.  The  younger  brother  of  Lady  Grace  was 
the  famous  Henry  Pelham,  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  Her  sisters 
were  Frances,  Viscountess  Castlecombe ;  Garthwright,  Mrs.  Polhill ; 
Margaret,  Lady  Shelley ;  and  Lucy,  who  married  Henry,  seventh  Earl 
of  Lincoln,  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber  to  Prince  George  of  Den- 
mark, Paymaster-General  in  George  I.'s  time,  and  Knight  of  the 
Garter. 

t  In  the  novel  of  "  Esmond,"  "Dr.  Hare  "  is  portrayed  as  being 
called  in  t?  whip  the  Duke  of  Marlborough 's  children. 


74  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

served  among  Archdeacon  Coxe's  papers  in  the  British 
Museum. 

In  the  autumn  of  1709,  he  returned  to  England,  and  was 
married  to  his  first  cousin,  Bethaia,  sister  of  George  Naylor, 
who  thereupon  removed  with  her  mother  to  "  Amen  Corner," 
where  Francis  Hare  appears  to  have  possessed  some  descrip- 
tion of  home,  and  where  members  of  his  family  were  previously 
residing.  But,  in  the  following  April  (1710),  he  was  again 
obliged  to  join  the  camp  near  Douay,  when  he  left  his  wife 
with  her  family  at  Hurstmonceaux,  which  ever  after  continued 
her  principal  home;  for  Lady  Grace  died  in  1711,  after  an 
illness  of  two  years,  her  husband  only  survived  her  loss 
a  few  months,  and  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  dying  at  the 
same  time,  little  Grace,  the  heiress  of  Hurstmonceaux,  was 
left  to  the  guardianship  of  Francis  and  Bethaia  Hare. 

The  story  of  Grace  Naylor  is  a  very  sad  one.  Left  an 
orphan  at  five  years  old,  she  grew  up  in  her  home,  the 
idol  of  her  father's  tenants,  equally  endeared  to  them  by  her 
beauty  of  person  and  natural  sweetness  of  character.  In 
her  twenty-first  year  (1727),  she  died  mysteriously  in 
Hurstmonceaux  Castle.  Her  aunt  was  already  dead,*  and  it 
is  said  that  the  desolate  girl  was  starved  to  death  by  the 
malice  of  a  jealous  governess,  in  whose  care  she  was  left ; 
the  fact  probably  being,  that,  in  order  to  give  her  one  of  the 
slim  waists,  which  were  a  lady's  greatest  ambition  in  those 
days,  she  was  so  reduced  by  her  governess,  that  her  consti- 
tution, always  delicate,  was  unable  to  rally.  She  has  no 
monument  at  Hurstmonceaux,  and  the  beloved  name  of 

•  Bishop  Hare  married  his  second  wife,  Miss  Alston,  in  the  year 
succeeding  Grace  Naylor's  death. 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  75 

Grace  Naylor  is  only  commemorated  upon  that  of  her 
nurse,  Margaret  Beckett,  who  died  December  27,  1750, 
aged  seventy-eight,  and  who  is  mentioned  as  having  "all 
her  lifetime  daily  and  hourly  lamented  "  the  decease  of  her 
young  mistress.  There  is  a  beautiful  portrait  of  her  extant. 
Very  little  is  really  known  of  her  life,  but  tradition  and 
truth  have  woven  themselves  together  in  many  stories,  which 
are  still  told  in  her  old  home,  where  the  bower-window,  in 
which  "  the  last  of  the  Naylors  was  starved  to  death,"  is  the 
object  of  chief  attraction  to  those  who  visit  the  ruins  of 
Hurstmonceaux  Castle. 

Of  the  life  of  Francis  Hare,  whose  son  Francis  (born  May 
14,  1713)  succeeded  to  the  Hurstmonceaux  estates  on  the 
death  of  his  cousin,  we  are  less  ignorant.  His  sermons  and 
pamphlets  had  long  been  keeping  the  ecclesiastical  world 
alive,  and  were  constantly  arousing  the  abusive  energies  of 
the  press ;  but  at  the  same  time,  bringing  his  great  talents 
before  the  public,  which,  aided  by  the  protection  of  the 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  and  the  friendship  of  Sir  Robert 
Walpole,  led  him  rapidly  up  the  ladder  of  preferment. 

In  1709,  he  enjoyed,  in  addition  to  the  chaplaincy  of  the 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  and  the  office  of  Chaplain-General  of 
the  Forces,  a  royal  chaplaincy,  given  by  Queen  Anne,  a 
Fellowship  at  Eton,  a  Canonry  at  St.  Paul's,  and  the  Rectory 
of  Barnes,  in  Surrey.  Thus,  when  he  married  Bethaia,  he 
was  already  well  provided  for.  In  1715,  he  received,  in 
\ddition,  the  Deanery  of  Worcester.  In  1722,  he  was 
appointed  Usher  of  the  Exchequer,  which  brought  him 
another  thousand  a  year,  by  Henry  Pelham,  the  younger 
brother  of  Lady  Grace.  In  October,  1726,  upon  the 


76  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

resignation  of  Dr.  Godolphin,  he  exchanged  Worcester  for 
the  richer  deanery  of  St.  Paul's ;  and,  in  the  same  year,  was 
advanced  to  the  episcopal  mitre  (without  resigning  St. 
Paul's,  which  he  held  till  his  death),  being  on  the  xyth 
December,  1727,  consecrated  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  where 
he  sate  for  barely  four  years.  This  double  elevation  was  the 
more  remarkable,  because,  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
reign  of  George  I.,  he  had  fallen  into  disgrace  on  the 
strength  of  party  prejudice;  and,  in  1718,  had  been  dis- 
missed from  his  royal  chaplaincy,  together  with  Dr.  Sherlock 
and  Dr.  Moss.  But  on  the  accession  of  George  II.,  he  was 
restored  to  the  court  favour,  and  Queen  Caroline  had  already 
intended  to  have  nominated  him  to  the  see  of  Bath  and 
Wells,  but  yielded  to  the  remonstrances  of  the  ministry,  who 
alleged  that  it  would  disoblige  the  whole  bench  of  bishops 
to  have  the  newly  consecrated  ones  let  into  the  best  prefer- 
ments at  once.* 

That  Bishop  Hare  was  considered  one  of  the  famous 
preachers  of  his  time,  we  learn  from  the  verses  of  Pope  : — 

"  Still  break  the  benches,  Henley,  with  thy  strain, 
While  Kennet,  Hare,  and  Gibson  preach  in  vain."f 

When  the  estates  of  Hurstmonceaux  came  to  his  son,  who 
forthwith  took  the  name  of  Naylor,  Bishop  Hare  consented 
to  pass  as  much  time  at  the  castle  as  his  various  offices 
allowed  him  ;  but  he  brought  up  the  young  Francis  there  in 
the  most  severe  manner,  "  obliging  him  to  speak  Greek  as 
his  ordinary  language  in  the  family."  J  The  property  was 
already  much  impoverished.  Not  only  were  the  repairs  of 

»  Nichols's  Literary  Anecdotes.  +  Dunciad,  bk.  iii.  s.  199. 

Cole  MS 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  77 

the  great  fabric  itself  a  continual  drain  upon  the  income, 
but  custom  had  imposed  a  burden  of  hospitalities,  and  a  dis- 
play of  liveries  and  retainers,  which  the  Bishop  found  great 
difficulty  in  abolishing.  His  letters  complain  bitterly  of 
the  expenses  of  the  unremunerative  deer-park,  from  which 
"  half  the  county  expected  to  be  supplied  with  venison,"  of 
the  weeding  women,  the  public  beer-butts,  and  the  number 
of  useless  hangers-on  who  by  custom  were  attached  to  the 
estate,  and  whose  number  may  be  estimated  by  the  fact, 
that  there  were  four  persons  whose  only  duty  was  that  of 
clock-winders. 

After  his  son  came  of  age,  Bishop  Hare  never  returned  to 
Hurstmonceaux.  While  visiting  his  paternal  estate  of  Skul- 
thorpe,  near  Fakenham,*  he  had  become  acquainted  with  the 
family  of  Mr.  Joseph  Alston,  of  Edwardstone,  whose  wife 
was  Laurentia  Trumbull,  niece  of  Sir  William  Trumbul!, 
the  Secretary  of  State,  t  Joseph  Alston's  eldest  daughter, 
Margaret,  was  married  to  Bishop  Hare  in  April,  1728,  and 
brought  him  a  large  fortune  in  the  estate  of  Newhouse,  in 
Suffolk,  and  the  Vatche,  near  Chalfont  St.  Giles,  in  Bucking- 
hamshire, where  they  always  resided  in  the  later  years  of  his 
life.  This  property  had  descended  to  Margaret  Alston 
through  the  Claytons  ;  who,  in  their  turn,  derived  it  from 
the  Fleetwoods,  through  whom  the  Bishop's  second  wife 
was  related  to  Oliver  Cromwell,  of  whom  she  possessed 
a  valuable  portrait.  The  Vatche  took  its  name  from  the 

*  Sold  by  his  son  Robert  in  1 780. 

t  Minister  Plenipotentiary  in  Turkey  in  the  reign  of  William  III., 
and  the  great  friend  and  patron  of  Pope,  who  wrote  his  epitaph  iu 
Easthamostead  Church,  Berks. 


7 8  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Vache,  a  dairy-farm  of  King  John.  The  estate  was  a  rich 
one,  and  the  house,  in  the  Bishop's  time,  was  a  fine  old  resi- 
dence, standing  on  high  ground,  surrounded  by  noble  trees. 
It  was  approached  by  a.  long  lime  avenue  from  the  pic- 
turesque village  of  Chalfont,  well-known  to  lovers  of  great 
men,  as  having  once  been  the  residence  of  Milton,  who  took 
refuge  there  from  the  plague  in  1665,  and  wrote  his  "  Paradise 
Lost "  in  a  gable-ended  cottage,  built  by  one  of  the  Fleet- 
woods,  which  still  exists. 

The  comparative  economy  of  the  Vatche,  and  its  near- 
ness to  London,  made  it  a  far  more  popular  residence  with 
the  Bishop  than  Hurstmonceaux.  He  fitted  up  a  desecrated 
chapel  in  the  grounds  for  divine  service,  which  was  per- 
formed by  one  of  his  chaplains,  and  hung  a  gallery,  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  in  length,  with  the  portraits  of  his 
ancestors.*  At  the  Vatche,  the  seven  children  of  his 
second  marriage  were  born.t 

Meanwhile,  his  eldest  son,  Francis,  gave  the  Bishop  con- 
siderable uneasiness,  by  avenging  himself  for  his  strictly 
guarded  youth,  in  extravagance  and  dissipation  of  every 
description,  and  by  eventually  joining  the  Medmenham 
brotherhood,  or  "  Hell  Fire  Club,"  a  society  of  wits  and 
humorists,  who  called  themselves  Franciscans,  from  their 
founder,  Sir  Francis  Dashwood,  afterwards  Lord  Le  De- 
spencer.  They  met  in  the  deserted  abbey  of  Medmenham, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  where  they  spent  six  weeks  every 

*  Sheahan's  Hist  of  Bucks,  pp.  822,  823. 

t  Four  of  these  lived  to  grow  up,  Robert  the  eldest  son  ;  Laurentia 
who  died  1760,  aged  thirty-one;  Anne  who  died  1816,  aged  eighty- 
one  ;  and  Francis,  wh(7  died  in  the  East  Indies,  1771. 


THE    HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX  79 

summer  in  the  wildest  orgies,  during  which,  a  cordon  was 
drawn  round  the  abbey,  to  prevent  the  approach  of  the  un- 
initiated. "  Fay  ce  que  voudras "  (the  inscription  in 
Rabelais'  abbey  Thelme)  *  was  their  motto,  which  they 
engraved  over  their  porch  at  Medmenham,  where,  time- 
stained  and  ivy-mantled,  it  may  still  be  seen ;  and  whatever 
they  chose  that  they  did,  though  they  sometimes  chose  to 
do  things  which  the  present  century  would  never  allow,  and 
the  last  century  was  greatly  scandalized  at.f  When  he  con- 
sented to  leave  the  brotherhood,  the  first  step  which  Francis 
Naylor  made  towards  reform,  was  one  most  displeasing  to 
his  father,  by  engaging  himself  to  his  stepmother's  younger 
sister,  Carlotta  Alston,  who  was  penniless,  though  beautiful. 
The  Bishop  prevented  their  marriage  in  his  lifetime,  but  it 
took  place  after  his  death,  when  they  went  to  live  per- 
manently at  Little  Thurlow,  in  Suffolk,  with  the  third  Miss 
Alston,  who  was  married  to  a  Mr.  Stephen  Soane,  leaving 
Hurstmonceaux  to  the  rats  and  mice.  Had  Francis  Naylor 
married  during  his  father's  lifetime,  "the  Bishop  and  his 
son  had  been  brother-in-law,"  says  Cole,  "  and  by  that 
means  would  have  added  yet  another  scandal."  I  That  the 
Bishop's  own  second  marriage  had  created  some  scandal  at 
the  time,  we  learn  from  Whiston,  who  writes,  "  And  I  will 
venture  to  say  that  Bishop  Hoadley  and  Bishop  Hare  seem 
to  have  been  among  the  first,  pretending  to  be  Christian 
Bishops,  that  having  children  already,  and  being  in  years, 

*  See  Cole  MS.  under  the  head  of  Soane. 

t  For     details     concerning    the    Medmenham    brotherhood,    see 
"  Chrysal,  or  the  Adventures  of  a  Guinea,"  vol.  iii.  c.  1J. 
J  Cole  MS  xvi.  107. 


80  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

have  married  twice,  and  ventured  to  officiate  as  Christian 
Bishops  afterwards."  *  But  Bishop  Hare  did  not  regret 
the  course  he  had  taken,  and  his  second  married  life 
was  a  very  happy  one,  saddened  only  by  the  deaths  of 
little  Mar)',  Charlotte,  and  Frances,  taken  away  in  their 
childhood. 

His  leisure  time  at  the  Vatche  was  constantly  devoted  to 
literary  pursuits.  In  1724  he  had  published  in  London  a 
new  quarto  edition  of  Terence,  according  to  that  of  Faernius, 
with  notes  and  a  dissertation  upon  comic  metre.  This  publi- 
cation led  to  a  dispute  between  Bishop  Hare  and  Dr.  Ben- 
tley,  heretofore  his  intimate  friend,  which  lasted  many  years.! 
In  this  dispute  Bishop  Hare  is  generally  considered  to  have 
had  the  worst  of  it,  but  Dr.  Parr,  who  thought  him  one  of 
the  best  Latin  scholars  of  his  or  of  any  age,  gave  it  as  his 
opinion  that  "  he  proved  himself  quite  a  match  for  his  anta- 
gonist in  his  knowledge  of  the  genius  and  spirit  of  the  lan- 
guage." Bishop  Warburton  had  also  the  highest  opinion  of 
his  critical  skill,  saying,  "  Good  sense  is  the  foundation  of 
criticism ;  this  it  is  which  has  made  Dr.  Bentley  and  Dr.  Hare 
the  two  greatest  critics  that  ever  were  in  the  world."} 

Bishop  Hare  had  a  considerable  knowledge  of  Hebrew ; 
and  in  1736  he  published  an  edition  of  the  Psalms  in  that 
language.  Concerning  this,  as  about  all  the  works  of  the 
Bishop,  opinions  differed  widely.  Dr.  Richard  Grey,  in  the 
preface  to  his  Hebrew  Grammar,  highly  extols  it,  as  recover- 

*  Whiston's  "  Memoirs  of  Himself,"  vol.  i.  p.  540. 
t  See  a  letter  from  Dr.  Salter  of  the  Charterhouse  to  Dr.  Nichols, 
Gent.  Mag.  for  1779,  pp.  547,  548- 
I  Nichols's  Lit.  Anec.,  ii.  96 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  8 1 

ing  what  for  ages  had  been  lost,  the  knowledge  of  Hebrew 
poetry,  and  in  several  places  restoring  the  text  to  its  original 
beauty  and  accuracy,  as  also  teaching  the  method  of  learning 
the  Hebrew  language  without  points;  but  Bishop  Hare's 
arrangement  of  the  Psalms  was  ably  confuted  by  Lowth 
in  1766. 

Meanwhile  the  Bishop's  sermons  continued  to  excite  in- 
creasing attention,  and  to  be  the  signal  for  a  warfare  of 
attacking  and  defending  pamphlets.  For  the  defence  of  a 
single  sermon  on  King  Charles's  martyrdom  (preached  1731) 
no  less  than  six  pamphlets  were  issued  by  different  persons.* 

In  1731  Bishop  Hare  was  translated  from  the  see  of 
St.  Asaph  to  that  of  Chichester.  In  1736  he  narrowly 
escaped  elevation  to  the  primacy.  The  case  is  thus  de- 
scribed in  Lord  Hervey's  Memoirs :  "  During  Archbishop 
Wake's  illness,  in  1736,  there  was  a  question  who  should 
succeed  him.  Lord  Hervey  proposed  Potter,  but  Sir  Robert 
seemed  much  more  inclined  to  take  Hare,  provided  he  could 
get  the  Queen  to  accept  of  him.  Hare  having  been  his  tutor 
at  the  university,  gave  Sir  Robert  some  prejudices  for  him ; 
and  the  good  correspondence  in  which  he  had  lived  with 
him  ever  since  made  his  vanity,  I  believe,  more  inclined  to 
Hare  than  Potter,  as  the  promotion  in  that  case  would  have 
been  more  marked  out  to  have  been  made  solely  by  his 
influence.  Lord  Hervey  told  him,  'You  will  certainly 
repent  of  it,  if  you  take  Hare.  He  is  a  haughty,  hard- 
natured,  imperious,  hot-headed,  injudicious  fellow,  who,  I 
firmly  believe,  would  give  you  more  trouble  at  Lambeth 
than  even  Sherlock  himself;  and  besides  that,  is  so  tho- 

*  Cole  MS.  vol.  xvi. 
VOL.  I.  G 


82  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

roughly  disliked  in  private  and  feared  in  public  life,  that  I 
do  not  think  you  could  lodge  power  in  more  unpopular 
hands.'  This  did  not  weaken  Sir  Robert's  bias  towards  him, 
but  Lord  Hervey's  constantly  talking  to  the  Queen  in  this 
strain  strengthened  the  natural  bias  she  had  against  him ; 
and  his  lordship  never  lost  any  opportunity  of  doing  Potter 
as  many  good  offices  as  he  did  ill  ones  to  Hare,  and  as  all 
he  said  on  these  two  subjects  had  the  ground-work  of  her 
•own  inclination,  it  made  an  impression  which,  without  that 
aid,  would  have  sunk  less  deep,  and  been  much  easier 
effaced."* 

That  Bishop  Hare's  character  was  not  such  as  to  con- 
ciliate court  favour  or  form  new  friendships  may  be  seen 
from  much  contemporary  evidence.  Cole  says,  "  That  the 
Bishop  was  of  a  sharp  and  piercing  wit,  of  great  judgment 
and  understanding  in  worldly  matters,  and  of  no  less  saga- 
city and  penetration  in  matters  of  learning,  and  especially 
of  criticism,  is  sufficiently  clear  from  the  works  he  has  left 
behind  him,  but  that  he  was  of  a  sour  and  crabbed  disposi- 
tion and  behaviour  is  equally  manifest.''!  The  few  friends 
who  remained  faithful  to  the  Bishop  in  his  later  life,  were 
chiefly  those  he  had  made  in  his  early  youth,  the  Pelhams 
and  Walpoles,  and  other  friends  of  the  old  Naylor  con- 
nection. Another  firm  ally  was  Dr.  Warburton,  who  was 
first  introduced  to  the  notice  of  the  court  by  his  influence.  J 

Bishop  Hare  died  at  the  Vatche  on  the  26th  of  April, 

*  Lord  Hervey's  Memoirs,  ii.  no. 

t  See  also  on  this  subject  the  author  of  the  Critical  Review  for 
Feb.,  1763,  p.  82. 

J  See  the  Life  of  Bishop  Warburton  affixed  to  his  Works,  vol.  i. 
p.  17. 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  83 

1740,  and  was  buried  in  a  mausoleum  which  he  had  built 
for  his  family  adjoining  the  church  of  Chalfont  St.  Giles. 
Great  was  the  lamentation  for  him  both  in  private  and 
public.  Bishop  Warburton  wrote,  "  In  the  death  of  Dr. 
Francis  Hare  the  world  has  lost  one  of  the  best  patrons  and 
supporters  of  letters  and  religion.  How  steadily  and  suc- 
cessfully he  employed  his  talents  of  reason  and  literature,  in 
opposing  the  violence  of  each  religious  party  in  their  turn, 
when  court  favour  was  betraying  them  into  hurtful  extremes, 
the  unjust  reproaches  of  libertines  and  bigots  will  never 
suffer  us  to  forget  How  generously  he  encouraged  and 
rewarded  letters,  let  them  tell  who  have  largely  shared  in 
his  beneficence,  for  his  character  may  be  trusted  with  his 
enemies  or  even  with  his  most  obliged  friends.  In  him  the 
author  of  the  '  Divine  Legation  of  Moses '  has  lost  the  most 
candid  of  his  readers  and  ablest  of  his  critics ;  what  he  can 
never  lose  is,  the  honour  of  his  esteem  and  friendship." 

Many  other  persons  have  awarded  a  favourable  verdict  to 
Bishop  Hare,  and  since  Bentley  was  dead,  he  left  no  avowed 
enemies  behind  him  ;  but  the  belief  in  his  orthodoxy  as  a 
Churchman  was  by  no  means  universal.  Spencer's  Anec- 
dotes mention  him  as  "  engaging  to  prove  very  clearly  that 
the  Book  of  Job  was  written  a  little  before  Ezekiel's  time.' 
Dr.  Conybeare  quotes  him  as  saying,  "  The  Book  of  Job  is, 
perhaps,  the  finest  dramatic  piece  that  ever  was  written.  It 
is  evidently  a  tragedy,  and  the  design  of  it  is  to  show,  '  cur 
malis  bone,  et  bonis  male.'  Taken  with  that  single  pre- 
caution, it  is  very  easily  understood  all  through,  and  the  per- 
formance is  very  well  for  a  young  man." 

Upon  the  death  of  Francis  Naylor,  in  1775,  the  Hurst- 


84  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

monceaux  property  devolved^  upon  his  half-brother  Robert, 
son  of  the  Bishop  by  Margaret  Alston.  He  received  his 
name  from  his  godfather  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  who  gave  him 
as  a  christening  present  the  sinecure  office  of  sweepership  of 
Gravesend,  worth  £400  a  year,  but  divided  for  some  time 
between  him  and  a  Mr.  Gee.  This  he  held  till  his  death. 
Its  only  duty  was  to  go  down  to  Gravesend  once  a  year, 
and  to  give  ten  guineas  to  the  watermen  there.  Bishop 
Hare  had  decided  from  their  cradles  that  his  sons  must 
follow  his  example  in  marrying  heiresses.  "  The  estate  is 
charged  to  raise  .£3,000  apiece  for  the  younger  children, 
and  one  would  hope  that  Master  Hare's  wife's  fortune  would 
clear  that  encumbrance,"  wrote  the  Bishop's  widow,  imme- 
diately after  his  death.  The  wife  and  her  fortune  were  very 
easy  to  fix  upon.  Only  two  miles  from  the  Vatche  was  the 
beautiful  estate  of  Chalfont  St.  Peters,  belonging  to  a  Mr. 
Lister  Selman,  who  had  no  son,  but  two  lovely  daughters. 
Of  these,  one,  Helena,  married  John  Lefevre,  of  Heckfield, 
and  was  the  grandmother  of  the  present  Lord  Eversley;  the 
other,  Sarah,  married  Robert  Hare  in  1752,  and  died  in  1763 
of  a  chill  brought  on  by  eating  too  many  ices  when  over- 
heated by  dancing  at  Sir  John  Shaw's,  at  Eltham,  leaving  to 
the  Hares  a  diamond  necklace,  valued  at  .£30,000,  and 
three  children,  Francis,  Robert,  and  Anna  Maria. 

In  1768,  Robert  Hare  married  another  heiress,  Miss 
Henrietta  Henckell,  a  woman  as  extravagant  as  she  was 
ambitious.  She  preferred  Hurstmonceaux  to  the  Vatche  as 
the  grander  residence  of  the  two,  and  after  the  death  of  the 
Bishop's  widow  in  December,  1784,  she  persuaded  her 
husband  to  sell  the  latter,  together  with  his  property  at  the 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  85 

White  House  and  Burfield  in  Hampshire,  and  at  New 
House  in  Suffolk,  and  to  settle  the  proceeds  upon  her 
children,  who  were  seven  in  number,  though  only  two 
daughters — Caroline  and  Marianne — lived  long  enough  to 
bear  any  conspicuous  part  in  the  family  history.  But  far 
more  distressing  to  her  stepsons  was  the  idea  of  Mrs.  Hen- 
rietta Hare,  that  if  she  could  pull  down  the  castle,  which 
was  necessarily  entailed  upon  the  eldest  son  of  her  pre- 
decessor, she  could  build  with  its  materials  a  handsome 
house  on  a  higher  site  in  the  park,  which  could  be  settled 
upon  herself.  With  this  view  she  called  Wyatt  to  her 
assistance,  who  declared  that  the  castle  was  in  a  hopeless 
state  of  dilapidation,  though  another  authority  had  just 
affirmed  that  in  all  material  points  its  condition  was  as  good 
as  on  the  day  on  which  it  was  built. 

In  1777  the  castle  was  unroofed.  Those  who  began  to 
pull  it  to  pieces  found  how  strongly  built  it  was,  and  the 
materials  were  so  injured  in  the  taking  down  that  they  were 
quite  unfit  to  use  again.  A  great  sale  was  held  in  the  park, 
whither  the  London  brokers  came  in  troops,  and  lived  in  an 
encampment  of  tents  during  the  six  weeks  through  which 
the  sale  lasted.  Almost  everything  of  value  or  interest  was 
then  dispersed.  The  great  vine  of  Gibbons's  carving  is  said 
to  have  been  bought  for  Petworth.  Even  the  portrait  of 
Grace  Naylor  herself  was  sold  to  a  farmer  at  Hellingly. 
Mrs.  Henrietta  Hare  and  her  husband  afterwards  resided  at 
Hurstmonceaux  Place,  the  new  house  which  Wyatt  was 
commissioned  to  build,  and  lived  there  with  such  extrava- 
gance that  they  always  spent  a  thousand  a  year  more  than 
their  income,  large  as  it  was,  and  annually  sold  a  farm  from 


86  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  property  to  make  up  the  deficiency.  It  was  a  proverb 
in  the  neighbourhood  at  that  time  that  "  people  might  hunt 
either  Hares  or  Foxes." 

Robert  Hare  was  a  clergyman.  In  the  later  years  of  his 
life  he  had  a  canonry  at  Winchester,  and  there  he  died. 
It  was  upon  one  of  the  rare  visits  of  his  eldest  son,  Francis 
Hare  Naylor,  to  Winchester  (for  he  was  upon  the  most 
unhappy  terms  with  his  stepmother)  that  he  made  an 
acquaintance  which  was  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  his 
future  life. 

About  two  miles  from  Winchester  is  the  picturesque 
village  of  Twyford,  having  an  old  church  with  a  magnificent 
yew-tree  in  its  grave-yard,  and  close  beside  it  a  handsome, 
substantial  red-brick  house  of  the  last  century,  standing 
rather  too  near  the  high-road.  Beyond  the  road  is,  how- 
ever, a  fine  avenue  of  chestnuts  called  "  The  Grove."  The 
house  itself  is  apparently  only  two  stories  high,  for  the  third 
is  concealed  by  a  parapet,  with  round  holes  opposite  the 
windows,  after  the  fashion  of  the  time.  Below  the  house 
and  the  churchyard  a  green  bank  studded  with  elm-trees 
slopes  down  to  the  river  Itchen,  which  is  here  crossed  by  a 
wooden  bridge.  Altogether  Twyford  is  a  far  pleasanter 
residence  than  any  other  place  in  that  generally  bleak  but 
healthy  neighbourhood. 

In  the  earlier  part  of  the  last  century  Twyford  House 
was  inhabited  by  a  family  called  Davies,  whose  heiress 
married  Jonathan  Shipley,  a  London  merchant.  Their  only 
son,  Jonathan,  rose  high  in  ecclesiastical  honours.  In 
1749,  being  then  a  doctor  in  divinity,  he  was  made  Canon 
of  Christ  Church,  and  in  1760  Dean  of  Winchester.  He 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  87 

was  next  advanced  to  the  bishopric  of  Llandaff,  whence  he 
was  translated  to  St.  Asaph  in  1769.  The  sermons  of 
Bishop  Shipley  obtained  great  praise,  though  no  collection 
of  them  was  published  till  after  his  death  in  1792.  He 
was  celebrated  by  the  poets  of  his  day. 

"  Who  views  St.  Asaph,  e'en  with  envious  eye, 
That  dares  his  learning,  wisdom,  worth,  deny  ?" 

The  following  letter  to  the  newly-appointed  prime  minis- 
ter, Lord  Shelburne,  seems  worth  insertion  as  showing  the 
boldness  with  which  Bishop  Shipley  asserted  his  principles, 
regardless  of  self-interest. 

"  Chimbolton,  November  21,  1782. — My  dear  Lord, — 
Permit  an  old  friend,  who  has  told  you  many  an  honest 
truth,  and  has  never  in  any  instance  imposed  upon  you,  to 
return  a  very  serious  answer  to  an  official  letter.  I  need 
not  remind  your  lordship  that  it  was  my  constant  endeavour 
and  warmest  wish  to  bring  about  a  cordial  reconciliation 
between  yourself  and  Lord  Rockingham.  I  always  con- 
sidered you  as  the  respectable  heads  of  the  same  party,  and 
I  considered  your  difference  as  arising  from  mutual  jealousies 
and  little  personal  offences,  and  far  unworthy  to  be  the 
ground  of  a  serious  division  among  the  friends  of  their 
country.  Your  lordship  need  not  be  reminded  of  the  warm, 
the  frequent,  and  perhaps  impertinent  remonstrances  I  have 
made  on  this  subject,  and  I  have  a  right  to  be  credited 
when  I  assure  you  that  I  never  omitted  any  opportunity  of 
expressing  the  same  wishes  to  Lord  Rockingham,  as  far  as 
a  very  inferior  degree  of  intimacy  would  allow  of.  Almost 
the  last  words  I  ever  spoke  to  him  were  these  :  '  My  lord, 
you  see  the  arts  and  intrigues  that  are  used  to  disunite  you 


88  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

and  Lord  Shelburne  :  that  very  circumstance  ought  to  con- 
vince you  both  that  it  is  your  interest  most  cordially  to 
agree.'  I  flattered  myself,  indeed,  that  my  wishes  were 
accomplished  when  you  so  nobly  concurred  with  Lord 
Rockingham  in  forming  the  late  Cabinet.  Two  or  three 
more  such  acts  would  have  made  you  what  I  always  hoped 
to  see  you, — a  great,  independent,  popular  statesman,  head- 
ing a  most  respectable  band  of  honest  men,  the  friend  of 
your  country,  and  the  most  powerful  man  in  it.  Your 
memory  will  justify  what  I  say,  if  you  recollect  the  tendency 
of  all  the  political  conversations  with  which  your  lordship 
has  formerly  honoured  me ;  and  though  my  endeavours 
have  perhaps  been  too  officious,  and  certainly  fruitless,  and 
even  though  they  have  made  me  lose  your  lordship's  friend- 
ship and  confidence,  yet  I  shall  have  the  spirit  to  consider 
the  part  I  took  as  the  most  virtuous  act  of  my  life.  I  con- 
gratulated your  lordship  with  the  warmest  approbation  and 
love  on  your  short-lived  reconciliation  with  Lord  Rocking- 
ham, and  I  own  I  could  not  congratulate  you  on  a  promo- 
tion that  occasioned  the  desertion  of  so  many  worthy  men. 
That  great  and  solid  combination  ought  at  all  events  to  have 
been  kept  entire.  Before  the  death  of  that  valuable  man  I 
left  town,  and  have  been  resident  either  at  my  diocese  or  on 
my  living  in  an  utter  ignorance  of  all  State  transactions  since 
that  period.  I  pay  no  regard  to  papers  or  common  reports, 
and  my  correspondents  have  been  either  silent  or  mysterious. 
God  forbid  that  I  should  suspect  your  lordship  has  aban- 
doned your  good  principles  and  your  generous  views  for 
the  public  service  ;  pursue  them  with  firmness,  and  you  will 
have  my  weak  support,  and  much  better  than  mine  ;  but  it 
you  find  yourself  entangled  and  embarrassed,  like  Lord 
Chatham,  in  Court  artifices,  break  through  the  mercenary 
chains  at  once,  and  assert  your  liberty  and  honour. 

"  If  from  different  views  of  things  I  should  at  any  time 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  89 

find  myself  obliged  to  differ  from  you,  it  will  give  me  some 
comfort  to  show  that  my  long  attachment  to  your  lordship 
was  not  of  an  interested  kind.  I  am,  my  Lord,  your  most 
obedient,  faithful,  humble  servant, 

"  J.  ST.  ASAPH." 

Bishop  Shipley  married  Anna  Maria,  daughter  of  the 
Honourable  George  Mordaunt,  and  niece  of  the  famous  Earl 
of  Peterborough,  who,  in  her  youth,  was  celebrated  as  "  the 
beautiful  Miss  Mordaunt,"  and  was  Maid  of  Honour  to 
Queen  Caroline.  They  had  one  son  and  five  daughters. 
The  son,  William  Davies,  took  orders ;  and,  while  still  a 
young  man,  was  appointed  to  the  Deanery  of  his  father's 
Cathedral  of  St.  Asaph,  where,  by  residing  on  the  spot,  he 
was  enabled  to  perform  many  duties  which  would  otherwise 
have  devolved  upon  his  father,  and  to  allow  of  his  passing  a 
great  part  of  the  year  on  his  own  estates  at  Twyford,  and  at 
Chimbolton,  near  Andover.  Dean  Shipley  married  a  Miss 
Yonge,  coheiress  with  her  sister  (who  never  married,  and 
lived  with  the  Dean),  of  Bodryddan,  a  fine  old  house,  em- 
bosomed in  woods,  and  backed  by  rocky  purple  hills,  about 
three  miles  from  St  Asaph.  There  he  lived,  full  of  enjoy- 
ment in  hunting  and  shooting, — rollicking,  popular,  and 
good-natured, — though  not  very  ecclesiastical. 

The  daughters  of  the  Bishop,  unlike  their  decanal  brother, 
were  entirely  devoted  to  literature.  The  eldest,  Anna 
Maria,  was  of  a  stern  character,  which  caused  her  to  be  re- 
garded with  considerable  awe  by  her  sisters,  and  lived 
principally  with  her  cousin,  Lady  Spencer,  at  Althorpe, 
where  she  attracted  the  attentions  of  the  handsome  young 
tutor,  afterwards  the  celebrated  Sir  William  Jones.  In  spite 


90  MEMORIALS   OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

of  the  disparity  of  position,  Bishop  Shipley  entertained  so 
great  an  admiration  for  the  genius  of  young  Jones,  that  he 
would  probably  not  have  refused  his  consent  to  their  union, 
especially  as  he  had  himself  been  permitted  to  make  his  own 
happy  marriage  with  Miss  Mordaunt,  while  he  was  a  tutor 
in  the  family  of  her  uncle,  Lord  Peterborough.  But  William 
Jones  determined  not  to  seek  the  hand  of  Miss  Shipley  till 
his  own  efforts  placed  him  in  a  position  which  he  considered 
worthy  of  her,  and  he  was  thus  stimulated  to  greater  exer- 
tions. "  It  was  a  fixed  principle  with  him,  never  to  be 
deterred  by  any  difficulties  that  were  surmountable,  from 
prosecuting  to  a  successful  termination,  what  he  had  once 
deliberately  undertaken."  In  the  course  of  his  short  life, 
he  acquired  : 

Eight  languages  studied  critically : — 

English,  Latin,  French,  Italian,  Greek,  Arabic,  Persian, 
Sanscrit. 

Eight  studied  less  perfectly,  but  all  intelligible  with  a 
dictionary : — 

Spanish,  Portuguese,  German,  Runick,  Hebrew,  Bengali, 
Hindi,  Turkish. 

Twelve  studied  least  perfectly,  but  all  attainable  : — 

Tibetian,  Pali,  Phalari,  Deri,  Russian,  Syriac,  Ethiopic, 
Coptic,  Welsh,  Swedish,  Dutch,  Chinese  (twenty-eight 
languages). 

It  was  not,  however,  till  April,  1783,  when  his  services  to 
Oriental  literature  had  won  the  honours  of  knighthood,  and 
the  appointment  of  Judge  at  Fortwilliam,  in  Bengal,  that  he 
claimed  the  hand  of  Miss  Shipley,  who  almost  immediately 
after  accompanied  him  to  India.  The  marriage  gave  great 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  91 

pleasure  to  all  the  friends  of  the  family ;  most  of  all  to  the 
venerable  Benjamin  Franklin  (there  is  a  beautiful  letter  of 
his  written  upon  the  occasion),  who  was  Bishop  Shipley's 
most  intimate  friend,  and  with  whom  he  used  to  walk  for 
hours  up  and  down  "  the  Grove"  in  eager  conversation, 
during  the  summers  he  spent  at  Twyford.  The  loss  of  Lady 
Jones  was  bitterly  felt  by  her  family ;  her  sisters  never  passed 
a  day  without  writing  to  her  in  a  long  journal  letter  every 
most  trifling  event  of  their  lives ;  and  her  father  confided  to 
her  his  every  care,  and  watched  for  her  return  with  the  most 
unwearied  affection.  Thus,  after  hearing  that  a  serious  ill- 
ness was  likely  to  send  her  home,  he  wrote : — 

BISHOP  SHIPLEY  to  LADY  JONES. 

"  May  31,  1787. — I  admire  Sir  William's  sense  and  good- 
ness in  a  hundred  instances,  but  in  none  more  than  that, 
though  he  knows  your  value  so  well,  he  will  for  that  very 
reason  consent  to  part  with  you.  The  great  difficulty  I  foresee, 
will  be  to  gain  your  consent  to  leave  him  in  India  alone.  I 
conceive  how  deeply  so  long  a  separation  must  affect  your 
sensible  and  worthy  minds,  but  your  own  reasonable 
thoughts  will  suggest  that  you  only  part  to  preserve  your 
life,  and  increase  your  happiness.  I  fear  I  may  appear 
selfish  in  saying  that  you  will  meet  with  love,  and  friend- 
ship, and  kindness  at  home,  that  may  atone  for  everything 
but  the  loss  of  Sir  William ;  but  all  the  rest  will  be  slight 
and  superficial  in  comparison  of  the  joy  you  will  bring  to 
your  own  family,  and  chief  to  the  bosom  of  your  anxious 
parents.  Shall  I  once  more  see  and  embrace  my  dearest 
Anna  ?  Shall  I  hear  from  her  own  mouth  her  dangers,  her 
adventures,  her  observations?  That  thought  revives  me; 
it  lessens  the  infirmities  of  age,  and  shows  me  there  is  still 


MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


something  worth  living  for.  I  cannot  help  anticipating  the 
pleasure  in  thought  of  receiving  my  dearest  daughter  once 
more  into  my  aged  arms  :  it  makes  me  wish  to  live  a  few 
years  longer.  Give  my  blessing  and  ever  affectionate  re- 
spects to  Sir  William,  and  think  often  of  your  wishing  and 
doating  father, 

"J.  ST.  ASAPH." 

A  great  contrast  to  Lady  Jones,  both  in  appearance  and 
character,  was  her  sister  Georgiana,  the  fourth  and  most  in- 
teresting of  Bishop  Shipley's  daughters.  As  she  passed 
from  a  happy  childhood,  spent  in  the  sisterly  circle,  into 
her  brilliant  girlhood,  she  displayed  a  degree  of  beauty 
which  caused  her  to  rival  her  cousin,  a  more  celebrated 
Georgiana,  "  the  beautiful  Duchess  of  Devonshire,"  to  whom 
she  bore  a  striking  resemblance.  From  her  earliest  years, 
she  delighted  her  father  by  displaying  the  most  ardent  love 
for  learning  of  every  kind.  Not  only  was  she  thoroughly 
versed  in  all  the  modern  European  languages,  but  she  was 
also  deeply  read  in  Greek  and  Latin  authors,  which  she 
studied  with  him.  Her  extraordinary  artistic  talents  were 
cultivated  under  the  eye  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who,  when 
they  were  in  London,  was  almost  a  daily  visitor  at  her 
father's  house  ;  and,  in  the  remarkable  literary  circle  which 
frequented  her  home,  the  enthusiasm  with  which  she  entered 
into  all  the  political  questions  of  the  time,  and  the  originality 
of  her  conversational  powers,  made  her  a  general  favourite. 

To  Georgiana,  the  marriage  of  Lady  Jones  made  an 
especial  blank  in  the  home  circle  ;  for  Mrs.  Shipley  had 
always  brought  up  her  daughters  "to  go  in  pairs,"  and, 
sympathizing  most  in  _  all  their  pursuits,  Anna  Maria  and 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  93 

Georgiana  had  always  "gone  together."  The  separation, 
too,  took  place  at  a  time  when  she  most  especially  needed 
the  support  and  advice  of  her  elder  sister.  During  her 
father's  residence  at  Twyford,  while  wearied  with  the  dull 
society  of  the  country  squires  of  the  neighbourhood,  she  had 
found  a  congenial  spirit  in  Francis  Hare  Naylor,  the  son  of 
the  Canon  of  Winchester.  His  good  looks,  and  his  hopeful 
disposition  amid  much  poverty  and  constant  unkindness 
from  his  father,  not  only  interested  her  in  his  behalf,  but  the 
Duchess  of  Devonshire  also,  who  looked  upon  him  as  the 
hero  of  a  living  romance,  and  who,  when  Georgiana  Shipley 
came  to  London,  never  omitted  an  opportunity  of  throwing 
them  together.  Bishop  Shipley,  who  had  more  ambitious 
views  for  his  beautiful  daughter,  tried  in  vain  to  break  off 
their  intimacy,  for  meetings  were  contrived  almost  daily  at 
Devonshire  House;  and,  as  Georgiana  Shipley  wrote  to 
Lady  Jones,  "  each  day  was  a  blank  "  on  which  they  did  not 
take  place.  At  length,  seeing  the  hopeless  state  of  his 
daughter's  affections,  the  Bishop  was  induced  to  invite 
Francis  Hare  Naylor  to  Twyford.  The  following  day  he  was 
arrested  for  debt,  while  driving  in  the  episcopal  coach  with 
Georgiana  and  her  parents.  He  was  then  forbidden  the 
house;  but,  on  his  release,  he  contrived  to  communicate 
with  his  beloved  by  dressing  up  as  a  beggar,  and  appearing 
at  her  carriage  window,  as  it  ploughed  its  way  through  the 
muddy  lanes  between  Winchester  and  Twyford.  She  recog- 
nised him,  and  kissed  her  hand  in  the  presence  of  her 
family.  The  scene  of  indignation  and  reproach  which  fol- 
lowed brought  matters  to  a  crisis.  Robert  Hare  refused  to 
do  anything  for  his  son,  but  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire  gave 


94  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

them  an  annuity  of  ^£200,  with  the  promise  of  a  place  in 
Ireland,  and  on  this  they  married.  The  place  in  Ireland 
never  came ;  and,  soon  after  the  marriage,  they  retired  to 
Carlsruhe,  and  afterwards  to  the  north  of  Italy,  where  their 
pittance  was  comparative  riches.  Here  their  eldest  son  was 
born,  at  Vicenza,  on  January  6,  1786,  and  was  baptized  by 
the  names  of  Francis  George  in  the  following  June,  when 
the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  passing  through  Italy  at  the 
time,  officiated  as  his  godmother.  In  1792,  the  Hare- 
Naylors  proceeded  to  Rome,  where  Mrs.  H.  Naylor  gave 
birth  (November  17)  to  her  second  son,  called  Augustus 
William,  after  his  royal  godfather,  Prince  Augustus  Frederick, 
and  Sir  William  Jones. 

The  first  years  she  spent  in  Italy  were  devoted  by  Mrs. 
Hare-Naylor  to  painting,  and  she  has  left  many  fine  copies  of 
the  pictures  in  different  celebrated  galleries.  Her  perfect 
mastery  of  languages  and  immense  knowledge  enabled  her  to 
enter  fully  into  all  the  intellectual  interests  around  her. 
Rome  afforded  her  the  most  entire  enjoyment.  The  fol- 
lowing verses,  written  during  her  stay  there,  remain  among 
her  papers : — 

"  What  art  thou,  Rome  ?    An  empire's  cemet'ry  ? 

The  skeleton  of  greatness  still  thou  hast : 

Thy  shattered  Coliseum  stern  and  vast, 
Thy  long,  long  aqueducts — from  water  free ! 
Thy  mould'ring  fanes — without  a  deity ! 

Grey  columns  too,  whose  very  names  are  pass'd, 

Yet,  still  erect,  their  length'ning  shadows  cast, 
As  though  they  mark'd  the  hours  of  destiny. 

"  What  art  thou,  Rome  ?    I  look  again  around, 

There  meets  mine  eye  the  grave  procession's  gloom, 
And  in  mine  ear  the  swelling  anthems  sound, 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  95 

And  nearer  still  the  clouds  of  incense  loom, 
And  lofty  cupolas  my  mind  astound  : 

What  art  thou,  Rome  ?  a  temple,  or  a  tomb  ?  " 

In  1795,  wearied  of  wandering,  the  Hare-Naylors  formed 
a  fixed  residence  at  Bologna,  where  they  could  live  more 
economically  than  in  the  south.  Bologna,  which  still  main- 
tains an  intellectual  supremacy  over  all  the  other  cities  of 
Italy,  was  at  that  time  the  resort  of  many  especially  emi- 
nent and  learned  persons  who  were  attracted  thither  by  the 
university,  and  who  formed  a  society  at  once  literary  and 
agreeable.  Chief  among  its  eminent  citizens  was  the 
famous  Mezzofanti,  with  whom  the  Hare-Naylors  became 
very  intimate ;  and  it  used  to  be  one  of  the  delights  of 
their  little  Francis,  in  his  childhood,  to  swing  the  censer 
upon  the  steps  of  the  altar,  when  the  future  cardinal  was 
celebrating  mass.*  "  At  this  time,  also,  the  chief  instruc- 
tors in  the  Scuole  Pie  of  Bologna  were  members  of  the 
recently  suppressed  Society  of  Jesuits.  In  Spain  the  order 
had  been  exiled  long  before  it  was  suppressed,  and  its  mem- 
bers, taking  refuge  in  Italy,  were  warmly  welcomed  in  the 
Papal  States,  and  were  led  to  establish  themselves  at  Bologna 
by  finding  in  its  schools  a  field  of  labour  almost  identical 
with  that  of  their  own  institution.  One  of  the  most 
remarkable  of  these  refugees  was  Father  Emmanuele 
Aponte,  a  native  of  Spain,  who  had  been  for  many  years 
a  member  of  the  mission  to  the  Philippine  Islands.  An 
enthusiast  in  the  study  of  Greek,  Aponte  possessed  a  solid 
and  critical  knowledge  of  the  language,  of  which  he  wrote 
an  excellent  and  practical  grammar  for  the  schools  of  the 

•  Francis  Hare's  Reminiscences. 


96  MEMORIALS   OF   A  QUIET  LIFE. 

university,  frequently  republished  since  his  time;  and  it 
was  probably  to  this  habit  of  close  and  critical  examination, 
which  he  acquired  under  Aponte's  instruction,  that  his 
pupil  Mezzofanti  owed  the  exact  knowledge  of  the  niceties 
of  the  language,  and  the  power  of  discriminating  between 
all  the  varieties  of  the  Greek  style,  for  which  he  became  so 
eminently  distinguished."  *  Living  with  Aponte,  as  his 
adopted  daughter,  was  a  lady  whose  acquirements  were 
even  more  remarkable  than  his  own.  This  was  Clotilda 
Tambroni,  whose  bust  and  picture  now  decorate  the  walls  of 
the  university,  where,  in  spite  of  her  sex  (though  not  the 
first  lady  so  distinguished),  she  was  appointed  to  the  chair 
of  the  professor  of  Greek,  and  where  her  lectures  were 
eagerly  attended.  In  appearance  and  dress,  if  we  may 
judge  by  her  portrait,  she  resembled  the  Sibyl  of  Domeni- 
chino.t 

With  the  utmost  devotion  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  now  gave 
herself  up  to  the  education  of  her  eldest  son,  whose  wel- 
fare, spiritual  or  temporal,  was  never  absent  from  her 
thoughts.  To  teach  him,  she  again  applied  herself  to  the 
classical  studies,  which  had  been  the  delight  of  her  un- 
married life,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Clotilda  Tambroni, 
for  whom  she  formed  a  passionate  friendship,  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  .Greek  and  Roman  literature  almost  un- 
equalled in  a  woman.  From  the  best  Italian,  Spanish, 
French,  and  English  authors  she  collected  all  passages 
which  she  thought  might  prove  useful  for  her  son's  edu- 

*  See  Russell's  Life  of  Mezzofanti. 

t  She  lived  till  1840,  and  is  buried  in  the  cemetery  of  Bologna, 
where  her  tomb  has  a  marble  medallion  and  a  long  inscription. 


THE   HARES  OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  97 

cation  or  guidance.  She  compiled  a  book  of  "  Maxims  " 
for  his  constant  reference,  writing  on  the  first  page — "  As 
for  the  diligent,  their  minds  are  at  ease ;  their  time  is 
employed  as  they  know  it  ought ;  what  they  gain  they  enjoy 
with  a  good  conscience,  and  it  wears  well,  nor  do  only  the 
fruits  of  their  labours  delight  them,  but  even  labour  itself 
becomes  pleasant ;  "  *  and  "  Nam  csetera  neque  temporum 
sunt,  neque  aetatum  omnium  neque  locorum;  haec  studia 
adolescentiam  alunt,  senectutem  oblectant,  secundas  res 
ornant,  adversis  perfugium  ac  solatium  praebent ;  delectant 
domi,  non  impediunt  foris,  pernoctant  nobiscum,  peri- 
grinantur,  rusticantur."  t  Above  all,  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor 
sought  to  interest  her  son  in  religion,  but  on  that  subject 
alone  not  to  bewilder  himself  with  useless  inquiries.  With 
this  view  she  also  introduced  in  the  beginning  of  her 
maxim-book  the  following  words  of  Seeker :  "  It  is  our  duty 
to  believe  with  humility  and  simplicity  what  the  Holy 
Scripture  hath  taught  us ;  and  to  be  contentedly  ignorant  of 
what  it  doth  not  teach  us,  without  indulging  speculations  or 
conjectures,  which  will  only  perplex  the  subject."  She 
taught  her  little  Francis  early  to  compose  prayers  and  medi- 
tations of  his  own,  and  commit  them  to  paper.  Of  these, 
the  following  remains  to  us  in  his  large  round  child's  hand  of 
1795.  "I  beseech  thee,  O  my  God,  to  be  indulgent  to 
what  I  have  been  :  to  assist  me  to  amend  what  I  am ;  and, 
of  thy  goodness,  to  direct  what  I  shall  be  ;  so  that  the  love 
of  virtue  and  the  love  of  thee  may  always  be  first  in  my 
heart,  Amen." 

Before  he  was  four  years  old  Francis  Hare  had  begun 
*  From  Seeker.  t  Cicero  pro  Archia  poeta. 

VOL.  I.  H 


98  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

to  display  the  talents  which  afterwards  distinguished  him, 
speaking  (said  his  mother  in  writing  to  Lady  Jones)  Eng- 
lish, French,  and  Italian  with  equal  facility.  Before  he 
was  ten,  he  could  read  easily  with  his  mother  in  all  the 
easier  Greek  and  Latin  classics,  and  he  was  familiar  with 
many  of  the  best  authors  in  French  and  Italian.  The  only 
recreation  he  cared  for  was  the  work  of  a  carpenter.  He 
had  no  young  companions  except  during  his  fifth  year, 
which  he  passed  in  England  with  his  parents,  when  a 
childish  friendship  was  begun  with  "  Harry  Temple  "  (after- 
wards Lord  Palmerston),  which  was  never  laid  aside.  At 
Bologna  his  mother  was  his  constant  companion,  and  with 
her,  and  her  dog  Smut,  and  her  favourite  bird  in  its  cage, 
he  used  to  pass  long  days  in  the  woods  and  olive  gardens 
near  the  town.  The  family  group  was  painted  thus  by 
Flaxman,  whose  friendship  was  one  of  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's 
greatest  pleasures,  and  whose  advice  and  assistance  added 
much  to  the  perfection  of  her  paintings.  It  was  for  her 
that  he  made  his  drawings  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey. 

To  the  little  Francis,  on  his  birthday  of  Jan.  6,  1795,  his 
mother  addressed  the  lines  : — 

"  Beneath  yon  mountain's  venerable  brow, 

The  youthful  oak  adorns  its  native  wood, 

And  guarded  by  that  Power  who  bade  it  grow, 

Defies  the  whirlwind  and  the  raging  flood. 

Its  trunk  enlarges  and  its  roots  extend 

As  health  and  strength  each  vital  part  pervade  : 

In  foliage  rich  the  tufted  boughs  ascend, 

And  the  gay  sunbeams  gild  its  verdant  shade. 

Thus,  O  my  darling,  comes  the  tenth  glad  year, 
Which  from  thy  birth  receives  its  joyous  date, 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  99 

While  the  loved  object  of  thy  parent's  care, 
Thy  life  has  passed  in  childhood's  happy  state. 

Thy  ductile  heart  is  fashion'd  to  revere 

That  Power  benign  on  whom  we  all  depend, 

And  thy  young  bosom  glows  with  love  sincere 

Tow'rds  God,  thy  Maker,  Father,  Judge,  and  Friend. 

Blithe  health  is  thine,  and  gaiety  of  heart, 
With  spirits  light,  as  breath  of  fragrant  morn, 

And  all  the  genius  Nature  can  impart, 

And  all  the  charms,  which  playful  youth  adorn. 

No  tale  of  woe  has  pain'd  thy  tender  ear, 

No  thought  impure  has  stain'd  thy  spotless  mind  ; 

Unleara'd  in  flattery  and  untaught  to  fear, 
Yet  mild  to  all,  as  loving  all  mankind. 

Instructed  virtue,  more  than  fame  to  prize 
To  help  the  helpless,  to  relieve  the  opprest, 

The  use  of  wisdom,  to  make  others  wise, 
The  use  of  riches,  to  make  others  blest. 

Yet,  much  I  fear  the  ardour  of  thy  soul, 

Which  prudence  vain  would  check,  and  reason  still, 

Once  left  to  lawless  passion's  fierce  control, 
May  change  the  fervent  love  of  good,  to  ill ; 

Convert  thy  parent's  imaged  dream  of  joy 

To  deep  regret  and  unavailing  tears  ; 
Shade  ev'ry  virtue,  ev'ry  grace  destroy, 

And  blast  the  promised  harvest  of  thy  years. 

The  vivid  light'ning  bursting  o'er  the  plain 
Resistless  as  wild  passion's  boundless  tide, 

Consumes  the  oak,  of  strength,  of  beauty  vain, 
And  levels  with  the  ground  the  forest's  pride." 

In  the  summer  of  1795,  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  retired  from 
the  heat  of  the  plains  to  the  valley  of  Valdagno  near  Vicenza, 
and  there  she  gave  birth  (September  13)  to  her  third  son, 
Julius  Charles. 


100  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  LADY  JONES. 

"Valdagno,  Oct.  10,  1795. — My  third  boy  is  at  present 
the  beauty  of  the  whole  family — fine  dark  eyes  and  a  lovely 
skin.  On  Monday  we  are  to  have  the  christening,  and  a 
great  dinner  afterwards.  The  Duchess  of  Brissac  holds  the 
child,  and  is  to  be  the  only  sponsor,  for  they  will  not  admit 
of  Protestants  standing  even  by  proxy,  and  she  is  the  only 
Catholic  I  ever  saw  whom  I  could  wish  to  answer  for  a 
child  of  mine.  She  gives  him  the  name  of  Julius — a  name 
dear  to  her,  as  being  her  father's,  and  that  of  her  only  son, 
whom  she  lost  young.  When  we  return  to  England  I 
shall  have  many  drawings  to  show  you,  and  any  you  like 
will  be  yours,  as  much  as  myself  and  all  which  belongs  to 
ine,  for  my  gratitude  is  only  exceeded  by  your  kindness.  .  . 
We  live  so  happy  in  each  other,  so  happy  in  our  children, 
so  unmolested  by  any  extraneous  tracasseries,  that  I  often 
doubt  whether  any  change  in  our  situation  be  desirable, 
could  I  but  be  gratified  in  my  earnest  wish  of  once  more 
seeing  you,  my  best  friend  and  dearest  sister.  This  place 
much  resembles  the  most  beautiful  and  romantic  parts  of 
North  Wales.  Hare  and  I  ramble  all  day  long,  cross 
torrents,  and  climb  rocks,  and  converse  with  the  peasants, 
who  are  here  a  simple,  intelligent,  natural  set  of  beings, 
with  better  understandings  and  more  goodness  of  heart 
than  any  Venetian  noble ;  you  cannot  imagine  the  pleasure 
it  is  to  be  able  to  comprehend  their  patois,  which  I  now 
speak  to  perfection." 

On  the  Qth  of  November  in  the  following  year,  a  fourth 
son,  Marcus  Theodore,  was  born  at  Bologna,  and  received 
his  name  of  Marcus  from  his  godfather,  the  Marchese 
Marescotti,  a  cittadino  of  Bologna,  who  had  married  Lady 
Sophia  Butler,  a  friend  of  his  mother's. 


THE   HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX. 


In  1797,  Robert  Hare  died,  and  it  was  then  discovered 
that  his  intention  of  leaving  everything  he  had  to  his 
second  wife  was  frustrated  by  the  fact  that  she  had  un- 
wittingly built  Hurstmonceaux  Place  upon  entailed  land. 
Upon  the  receipt  of  this  news,  the  Hare-Naylors  deter- 
mined at  once  to  set  off  for  England,  though  it  was  a  time 
of  war,  and  travelling  difficult.  They  settled  only  to  take 
their  little  Augustus  with  them,  for  whose  education  Lady 
Jones  had  undertaken  to  provide. 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  LADY  JONES. 

Bologna,  August,  1797. — A  very,  very  happy  week  have  I 
spent  with  my  beloved  friend,  Madame  de  Brissac,  who 
came  from  Valdagno  on  purpose  to  visit  us  before  her 
return  into  France.  We  talked  over  many  plans  and  built 
many  castles,  and  I  was  gratified,  after  a  long  absence,  in 
again  enjoying  all  that  social  pleasure  can  bestow,  in  a 
union  of  sentiment  and  principles.  Hours  passed  in  her 
conversation  seem  to  give  one  a  foretaste  of  the  happiness 

to  be  enjoyed  hereafter I  have  not  mentioned  your 

kind  offer  with  regard  to  my  boy  to  any  one  in  England, 
and  perhaps  you  had  better  not  mention  it  either,  because 
if  he  is  not  so  fortunate  as  to  gain  your  affections  when  you 
know  him,  I  have  still  two  remaining  for  you  to  choose  from, 
for  the  contributing  to  your  happiness  is  as  much  my  object 
as  the  real  good  of  my  child.  The  account  you  give,  my 
beloved  sister,  of  your  own  health  and  spirits  renders  me 
doubly  anxious  to  come  to  you,  and  I  shall  be  most 
thankful  to  God  if  my  presence  shall  give  you  either  com- 
fort or  pleasure,  and  I  think  it  will  both,  because  you  will 
see  in  me  your  own  G.,  the  child  of  your  earliest  affec- 
tions unchanged  from  what  I  was  when  we  parted,  and 


102  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

preserving  a  grateful  memory  of  the  long  series  of  kind- 
nesses and  favours  you  have  unremittingly  shown  me." 

Julius  and  Marcus  were  left  with  Betta,  a  trustworthy 
Bolognese  servant,  under  the  eye  of  the  Marescottis,  and 
Francis  was  placed  in  the  house  of  Dom  Emmanuele 
Aponte,  as  a  joint  pupil  to  him  and  Clotilda  Tambroni. 
Nothing  will  give  a  better  idea  of  the  atmosphere  in  which 
Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  brought  up  her  children  than  a  few 
extracts  from  the  letters  of  the  little  (half-Italian)  Francis 
to  his  parents. 

FRANCIS  HARE  (aged  eleven)  to  HIS  MOTHER. 

"Bologna,  Sept.  16,  1797. — Dear  mama,  I  wish  that  you 
and  Pappa  and  Agustus  are  all  arrived  perfectly  well  in 
England,  and  have  finished  the  journey  without  any  acci- 
dent or  quarrel.  On  Monday  I  went  with  Don  Tineo  and 
the  Rector  to  Ranizzi,  which  is  really  a  very  pretty  place, 
and  after  dinner  we  had  a  dancing  bear.  On  Tuesday 
morning  we  began  our  studies.  Thucydides  and  Herodotus 
I  read  with  Dom  Emmanuel  together  with  the  Spanish  and 
its  grammar,  Callimachus  and  Xenophon  with  the  Clotilde, 
and  Hesiod  by  myself,  and  in  Latin  Horace.  In  the 
evening  we  went  up  to  see  Betta  and  the  children,  and  at 

night  after  tea  we  read  Sallust I  hope  that  you  will 

soon  settle  your  affairs  and  see  Housemonseux,  and  write 
me  word  how  my  friend  the  castle  stands,  and  what  classics 
you  have — I  mean  those  that  the  unnatural  (for  this  is  the 
only  epithet  she  merits)  Mrs.  Hare  left  you." 

"Sept.  23,  1797. — We  go  on  very  well  in  our  studies, 
which  last  every  day  at  least  seven  and  a  half  hours  I 
read  eveiy  day  for  one  hour  in  the  morning  one  of  those 


THE   HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  103 

prayers  that  you  left  me,  and  thirteen  chapters  in  the  Bible, 
and  two  psalms,  and  some  of  the  '  Grandeur  de  Dieu.' 
Then  from  nine  to  two  we  continually  study,  in  which  time 
we  read  Thucydides  and  Callimachus,  which  is  a  very  fine 
poet  (but  tell  Pappa  he  will  not  understand  it,  and  that  I 
hope,  when  he  comes  back,  I  will  give  him  the  choice  of 
any  Greek  authors,  even  one  that  I  have  not,  and  I  will 
certainly  beat  him  ;  but  by  that  time  Dom  Emmanuel  hopes 
I  may  be  a  perfect  Grecian) ;  then  we  read  Xenophon's 
'  Cyropaidia,'  which  is  sometimes  obscure,  and  in  Latin 
Horace,  which  I  agree  with  you  is  a  very  fine  poet. 
After  dinner  I  read  a  little  Hesiod  by  myself,  and  after 
tea,  if  the  Rector  comes,  we  read  Sallust ;  if  not, 
Herodotus,  which  is  the  prettiest  and  most  interesting 
history  I  ever  read,  and  written  very  beautifully." 

"  Oct.  21. — Monday  morning  we  went  to  see  the  casino 
of  the  college  with  the  Rector,  Don  Tineo,  and  Colorceo 
(from  whom  I  have  learned  to  play  at  chess  and  at  dama), 
Marescalchi  and  Carlino,  Padre  Scandellari  and  Don  Puero, 
and  the  chaplain  of  the  church  of  Castenazzo,  where  we 
had  a  very  good  rural  dinner.  My  brothers,  both  Jule  and 
Marcus,  have  come  into  the  town,  and  I  have  seen  the 
house,  which  I  did  not  much  like,  but  the  room  where 
Betta  sleeps  is  not  a  bad  one. 

"  Oct.  24. — Dpay  tell  me  how  Agustus  goes  on  in  learn- 
ing and  in  goodness.  Pray  give  me  some  news  of  the  poor 
old  castle  and  of  the  gardens,  and  if  you  can  find  a  room 
for  me  to  work  in.  Pray  send  me  word  how  you  like  Eng- 
land, and  if  it  is  disposed  to  change,  for  if  it  is  I  hope  to 
go  over  and  serve  my  country. 

"  Jule  loves  especially  Dom  Emmanuel,  and  Marcus  the 
Clotilde.  Jule  is  very  fond  of  me.  Pray  give  one  kiss  to 
Agustus  from  us  three.  Jule  shows  great  wish  to  lea  miner, 
for  yesterday,  when  we  went  to  the  library  of  the  college, 


104  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

he  did  nothing  else  but  want  to  carry  away  some  of  the 
books." 

The  next  letter  is  signed  "  F.  G.  Hare.  I  attest  and 
subscribe  myself  a  true  English  citizen  and  a  perpetual 
defender  of  its  liberties,  and  never  to  be  persuaded  by  the 
tempting  power  of  monarchy.  Justice— -fraternite !  An 
English  citizen  who  swears  himself  an  enemy  to  all  that 
dare  to  touch  the  rights  of  the  people.  A  preserver  of  the 
English  liberty  and  an  eternal  opposer  to  the  encroaching 
tyranny  of  the  king  and  ministry,  and  of  the  detestable 
parliament  which  now  exists,  which,  except  a  few,  are  the 
greatest  raskels  and  slaves  that  ever  existed,  who  for  a  little 
money  given  them  by  ministry,  will  sell  the  sacred  rights  of 
the  people  to  tyrannism  ;  and  if  Pitt  have  any  virtues,  one 
may  say  of  him,  as  Cato  says  of  Caesar,  in  Addison's  famous 
play, 

'  Curs'd  are  his  virtues,  for  they  have  undone  his  country.' " 

(This,  and  all  the  other  letters  of  young  Francis,  bear  the 
dates  and  months  of  the  French  Republic.) 

"Nov.  17,  1797. — I  hope  you  are  all  very  well,  so  are 
Julius  and  Marcus.  Jule  knows  very  well  all  the  letters. 

"  Every  evening  we  go  to  see  the  Rector,  who  is  not 
well,  upon  which  account  Don  Tineo  shows  all  his  goodness 
in  assisting  the  Rector.  Don  Tineo  is  certainly  a  man  in 
whom,  without  knowing  him  intimately,  one  does  not  find 
out  all  the  virtues — a  man  of  great  talent,  and  indefatigable 
towards  study,  and  of  great  goodness.  Together  with  a 
good  deal  of  learning,  he  is  very  humble.  At  first  knowing 
him  he  seems  rather  serious,  but  that  is  his  temper ;  but 
knowing  him,  he  is  the  mildest  person  you  can  imagine,  and 
his  virtues  are  most  shining  in  comparison  with  Don  Puero, 
who  does  not  understand  anything  but  about  operas,  and  I 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  105 

may  rightly  think  him  one  of  the  best  friends  I  have.  Pray 
always  remember  me  as  I  remember  you." 

"  Dec.  1 6. — Smut  and  the  bird  do  very  well,  but  the  cat  is 
lost  that  Betta  took  to  Bologna,  to  which  you  passed  three 
pauls  a  month.  The  other  is  up  in  the  Casino  getting  very 
beautiful  and  tame.  I  like  my  mathematick  master  much ; 
he  is  one  of  the  most  famous  in  Italy,  and  the  most  famous 
in  Bologna  for  II  Calcolo  Differentiale  and  Integrale  and 
Algebra.  We  now  study  algebra  problems,  and  he  says 
before  the  month  of  May  he  will  make  me,  if  I  study,  a 
profound  Algebrist,  and  then  study  geometry  and  consecu- 
tively all  the  other  parts  of  mathematicks.  He  wants  punc- 
tually done  all  he  sets,  and  if  not  he  redoubles  the  portion, 
and  makes  me  do  it  another  time." 

"Jan.  27,  1798. — For  Monday  I  have  made  a  new  divi- 
sion of  time.  From  seven  to  nine  I  do  my  penso ;  from  nine 
to  two,  Greek  and  mathematicks;  from  three  to  seven, 
French  and  Greek,  or  Latin  and  mathematicks,  and  read  the 
Bible ;  then  from  seven  to  nine  read,  and  at  twelve  go  to 
bed — that  I  may  be  worthy  when  you  come  back  of  the 
things  I  have  asked  you  to  bring  me." 

DOM  EMMANUELS  APONTE  to  MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR 
(from  the  Italian.) 

"Sept.  16,  1797. — Francis  is  well  and  happy,  and  most 
diligent  in  his  studies.  Yesterday  after  dinner  we  all  three 
went  to  visit  the  two  children,  and  found  them  most  flourish- 
ing. Julius  constantly  repeated,  '  Mama  is  away,  papa  is 
away,  but  Nono  is  at  home,*  Clotilde  is  at  home,  Betta  is 
at  home.'  As  soon  as  he  catches  sight  of  me  he  runs  to- 
wards me  quite  breathless  with  joy.  Marcus  laughs,  and 
holds  out  his  hands  to  snatch  my  cap  from  my  head,  and  then 
gives  it  back  to  me  with  gracefulness  itself,  to  begin  the 

*  Grandpapa — Dom  Emmanuele. 


106  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

same  play  over  again.  I  cannot  describe  to  you  how  well 
Francis  goes  on,  and  his  daily  diligence  is  such  that  he  will 
have  gone  through  all  the  best  Greek  authors  with  us  in  a 
very  short  time.  He  is  good,  and  obtains  the  love  equally 
of  all  the  inmates  of  my  house  and  of  all  who  visit  it." 

CLOTILDA  TAMBRONI  to  MRS.  HARE-NAYI.OR. 

"  Oct.  28,  1797. — At  this  moment  my  two  dear  children 
have  left  the  house — Julius  and  Marcus,  whom  Betta  brings 
daily  to  see  me.  I  love  them  more  than  ever,  indeed  I  can- 
not say  how  much  I  love  them.  They  daily  become  more 
beautiful,  more  graceful  and  full  of  life,  and  as  they  increase 
in  health  so  they  grow  in  understanding.  The  Nono  is 
entirely  devoted  to  Julius,  who  caresses  him  even  more  than 
he  does  me ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  Marcus  never  sees  me 
without  being  in  a  frenzy  to  jump  into  my  arms,  and  to  show 
me  his  intense  affection.  He  has  acquired  an  incredible 
strength  and  health,  and  I  cannot  restrain  myself  from 
giving  him  all  the  kisses  which  his  mother  would  give  him 
now,  and  indeed  I  do  the  same  to  my  beautiful  little  Julius. 
Betta  takes  great  care  of  them,  and  they  could  not  be  in 
better  hands.  Oh  !  what  a  satisfaction  it  would  be  to  you 
if  you  could  see  them  now,  but  since  this  is  impossible,  rest 
peaceful  and  satisfied  that  they  are  as  happy  as  if  they  were 
before  your  own  eyes.  If  I  were  their  real  mother  I  could 
not  love  them  more,  and  the  very  sight  of  those  two  little 
angels  fills  my  heart  with  such  an  intensity  of  joy  that  I  for- 
get every  trouble  I  have  ever  had.  Francis  is  perfectly  well 
and  entirely  happy.  All  who  know  him  think  that  he  has 
grown  much  since  you  left;  he  studies  hard,  eats  with 
appetite,  and  takes  walks  with  us  or  with  Pipetto.  He  is 
not  without  amusements  which  are  suited  to  his  disposition 
and  his  tastes ;  ir  ieed,  he  is  the  beloved,  the  Benjamin  of 
every  one  in  my  house,  and  of  all  my  visitors.  Don  Tineo, 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  1 07 


the  Rector,  and  Colomeo  love  him  sincerely  and  tenderly, 
and  the  two  first  show  him  a  thousand  kindnesses,  which  he 
gladly  receives.  He  is  becoming  a  good  chess-player,  and 
amuses  himself  in  this  way  every  evening  after  his  Greek 
and  Latin  studies.  In  short,  he  is  thoroughly  good,  and  we 
are  perfectly  satisfied  with  him.  Your  dog  is  well,  your  bird 
is  chirping.  I  have  written  all  these  trifles,  knowing  that 
they  would  not  be  disagreeable  to  you,  and  knowing  also 

that  Francis  would  not  have  the  patience Love  me, 

and  believe  in  the  fulness  of  love  which  I  feel  for  you  and 
your  children,  of  whom  I  rejoice  to  be  called  the  mother,  as 
I  really  am  in  affection." 

EMMANUELS  AP.ONTE  to  MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR. 

"  Francis  is  the  object  of  my  care,  of  my  thoughts,  and  of 
my  prayers,  and  I  believe  that  he  will  reward  all  my  labours 
and  the  hope  of  his  parents.  He  is  good,  industrious,  and 
employs  every  hour  of  the  day  in  the  manner  for  which  I 
have  assigned  it.  From  four  to  half-past  five  after  dinner  he 
takes  exercise,  and  goes  out  walking  when  the  weather  allows  ; 
in  the  evening  he  reads  either  Greek  or  Latin  for  two  hours, 
and  his  progress  is  an  astonishment  to  the  Rector,  to  Don 
Tineo,  and  to  Colomeo.  All  these  love  him  much,  and  he 
deserves  their  favour  by  the  judicious  manner  in  which  he 

behaves  to  them I  am  filled  with  love  for  the  other 

two  little  angels,  and  Julius  interests  me  most  of  all,  because 
of  his  especial  devotion  to  me,  for  he  never  sees  me  without 
shouting  out,  'Nono,  Nono,'  and  he  looks  at  his  father's 
picture,  and  kisses  his  tiny  hand,  calling  out,  '  Papa,  papa.' 
Then  he  asks  for  his  letters,  and  picking  out  the  M,  says 
mamma ;  the  P,  papa ;  the  N,  Nono ;  the  B,  Betta ;  the  C, 
Tilda.  Oh  !  what  a  beautiful  lovable  little  being  he  is  ! 

"Jan.  6,  1798. — This  is  the  happy  day  on  which  our 
Francis  fulfils  his  twelfth  year.  May  it  please  the  Most 


I08  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

High  to  hear  the  fervent  prayers  which  I  offered  this  morn- 
ing at  his  altar,  that  He  would  ever  prolong  in  happiness 
the  days  of  this  youth,  that  He  would  never  leave  him  with- 
out the  guidance  of  his  omnipotent  hand,  and  that  He  would 
so  protect  him  with  his  favour,  watch  over  and  enlighten 
him,  that  never  losing  a  holy  fear  of  his  Maker,  he  may  to- 
day, and  always,  and  every  day,  grow  more  and  more  con- 
formed to  the  divine  will,  obedient  to  the  sacred  precepts, 
and  in  the  exercise  of  every  virtue  which  belongs  to  that 
citizen  who  would  render  himself  pleasing  to  his  parents, 
beloved  by  his  equals,  and  truly  useful  to  his  country. 
Such,  I  am  persuaded,  and  even  more  fervent  than  these, 
are  your  prayers  for  him. 

"You  may  truly  rejoice  in  having  one  like  the  Clotilde 
near  your  dear  children.  Francis  is  certainly  deeply  attached 
to  her,  and  I  can  say  with  sincerity,  that  I  believe  the  Cas- 
sandra* and  Don  Tineo  are  the  two  persons  he  most 
thoroughly  esteems  and  appreciates.  Francis  reads  with 
the  Clotilde  the  hymns  of  Callimachus,  the  Cyropedia  of 
Xenophon,  and  some  odes  of  Horace,  taking  real  delight  in 
it  himself,  and  thus  without  interval  he  employs  all  the 
morning.  He  never  goes  to  bed  before  ten,  and  sometimes 
it  is  almost  eleven ;  but  I  have  no  need  to  call  him  in  the 
morning,  on  the  contrary,  he  is  up  before  me,  at  six  A.M.  at 
the  latest.  Then,  whilst  I  am  at  church,  he  says  his  prayers, 
reads  the  Bible,  washes,  and  on  my  return  has  his  breakfast 
of  a  bowl  of  milk,  to  which  a  little  chocolate  is  added,  with 
bread  and  butter ;  and  then  without  loss  of  time  we  all  three 
read  Thucydides  till  half-past  ten  o'clock,  when  my  young 
Spanish  pupil  comes.  Then  he  goes  into  the  next  room  with 
Cassandra  for  the  lessons  already  spoken  of,  until  the  young 
man  is  gone,  when  we  immediately  return  to  our  united 

*  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's  playful  name  for  Clotilda  Tambroni. 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  log 

studies  till  two  o'clock  strikes,  when  we  dine  on  soup,  a  boiled 
and  a  roast  dish,  and  fruit.  After  this  he  amuses  himself  a 
little  with  chess,  or  if  the  weather  allows,  we  all  three  go  out 
to  walk  together ;  when  we  return  home  we  have  tea,  and 

our  lessons   recommence I   cannot   express   the 

love  which  fills  me  for  all  these  your  children.  Julius  is 
most  passionately  devoted  to  him,  whom  he  always  honours 
by  the  sweet  name  of  Nonoro.  Marcus  now  also  knows  me 
quite  well,  and  when  asked  '  Where  is  the  Nono  ? '  turns 
round  and  points  his  finger  at  me  with  a  most  sweet  smile. 
....  I  cannot  conclude  without  repeating  a  thousand 
times,  that  I  am  more  than  satisfied  with  the  care  which 
Betta  bestows  upon  my  dear  little  'nipotini.'  She  is  indeed 
a  treasure." 

From  CLOTILDA  TAMBRONI. 

"fan  13,  1798. — The  dear  Marcus  is  becoming  so  fat  and 
strong  that  he  seems  much  older  than  he  is.  He  tries  to 
speak,  and  is  always  laughing,  and  the  friend  of  everybody, 
and  in  their  little  struggles,  he  can  conquer  Julius,  being  the 
stronger  of  the  two.  This  last  preserves  his  angelic  beauty, 
expressing  his  feelings  in  words,  of  which  he  gains  more 
daily,  and  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  heavenly  little 
creature." 

It  is  singular  that  in  the  numerous  letters  of  little  Francis 
to  his  mother,  in  which  he  is  most  lavish  in  his  praises  of  all 
his  other  friends  at  Bologna,  there  is  no  word  of  Mezzofanti, 
whom  he  continued  to  see  constantly,  and  from  whom  he 
occasionally  had  lessons.  Russell  tells  how  Francis  Hare 
spoke  of  the  great  linguist  in  after  life.  He  said  that  "  with 
the  keys  of  the  knowledge  of  every  nation  in  his  hand,  he 
never  unlocked  any  real  treasures  " — that  in  all  the  count- 


110  MEMORIALS  OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

less  languages  he  spoke,  "  he  never  said  anything, — that  he 
left  no  work  or  none  of  any  value  behind  him ;  that  he  was 
utterly  ignorant  of  philology ;  that  his  theology  was  mere 
scholasticism;  that  he  had  no  idea  of  Biblical  criticism;  and 
that  even  as  a  critical  Greek  scholar,  he  was  very  deficient." 
The  only  published  composition  of  Mezzofanti  was  a  pane- 
gyric on  Dom  Emmanuele  Aponte. 

Owing  to  the  war  and  to  the  revolutionary  sentiments  with 
which  little  Francis  insisted  upon  heading  his  correspondence, 
many  of  the  letters  from  England  were  intercepted  at  this  time. 
It  was  now  two  years  since  Bonaparte  had  taken  possession 
of  Bologna.  At  first  the  Bolognese  were  flattered  by  a  re- 
vival of  their  old  municipal  institutions ;  but  before  the  end 
of  1796,  the  name  of  Bologna  was  merged  in  the  "Republica 
Cisalpina,"  of  which  in  1797  it  became  the  "  Dipartimento 
del  Reno."  The  new  rulers  exacted  from  all  employe's  an 
oath  of  fidelity  to  the  Republic ;  this  was  especially  enforced 
with  ecclesiastics,  and  deprivation  was  the  consequence  of  a 
refusal.  Mezzofanti  was  so  far  exempted  that  any  seeming 
act  of  adhesion  to  the  new  state  of  things  would  in  his  case 
have  been  accepted  instead  of  an  oath,  in  order  to  retain 
his  services  in  the  University,  but  he  declined  it  and  was 
deprived  of  his  offices  about  this  time.*  His  friends  Clotilda 
Tambroni  and  Emmanuele  Aponte  displayed  equal  firmness, 
and  were  both  deprived  of  their  professorial  chairs.  Their 
chief  means  of  subsistence  was  thus  swept  away,  and  the 

*  On  leaving  Bologna,  Mezzofanti  went  to  Paris,  where  he  became 
librarian  to  the  family  of  Count  Marescalchi,  one  of  whose  sons — 
Carlino — had  been  his  pupil.  He  was  made  cardinal  1838,  died  March 
15,  1848,  and  is  buried  in  St.  Onofrio  at  Rome. 


THE   HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  Ill 

little  household  fell  into  continual  trouble,  almost  into  abso- 
lute privation,  from  want  of  money,  the  supplies  sent  out 
from  England  failing  to  arrive.  The  faithful  Clotilda  Tam- 
broni,  however,  continued  to  do  her  best  to  support  the 
family,  and  worked  for  the  children  of  her  friend, — and 
Father  Aponte,  though  almost  wanting  necessaries  for  him- 
self, and  living  in  continued  dread  of  the  order  to  return  to 
Spain,  which  came  a  few  months  after,  never  relaxed  his 
care  of  young  Francis,  though  sometimes  sorely  tried  by  the 
insubordination  which  he  now  began  to  show. 

EMMANUELE  APONTE  to  MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR. 

"March  17,  1798. — If  Francis  had  been  willing  to  obey 
me,  and  not  always  write  with  republican  phrases,  our  letters 
would  perhaps  have  arrived  safely.  To-day  we  receive  your 
favour  of  the  i6th  of  February,  and  with  it  the  note  for  ^25. 
Truly,  the  Cassandra  was  in  great  need  of  it,  not  knowing 
how  we  could  live  through  the  ensuing  month,  if  this  help 
had  not  arrived ;  but  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  this  will  suffice  us 
for  some  time,  though  it  will  not  allow  of  our  paying  the 
debts  we  have  contracted.  I  am  partly  glad  that  our  letters 
are  delayed,  and  I  hope  that  this  may  be  the  first  to  come 
to  hand,  because  in  them  I  spoke  of  faults  in  Francis,  which 
I  now  see  corrected,  especially  in  the  point  of  religion,  for 
he  never  passes  a  day  without  saying  his  prayers  in  a  morn- 
ing, or,  what  is  better,  as  soon  as  he  rises,  he  goes  into  the 
church  and  remains  there  half-an-hour  and  then  returns  home 
very  quietly  and  willingly.  I  now  never  hear  any  irreligious 
sentiment  from  his  lips,  nor  is  it  necessary  for  me  to  order 
or  suggest  anything,  but  he  does  it  of  his  own  accord.  This 
change  began  after  he  went  with  me,  with  Don  Giovanni 
Tineo  and  Colomeo,  to  the  convent  of  St.  Catherine, 
where  the  sisters  promised  me  to  pray  to  God  for  him, 


112  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

and  I  believe  that  they  do  so  most  fervently,  and  I  know 
that  there  are  many  devout  spirits  among  them.  Nothing 
can  be  more  agreeable  to  me  than  to  hear  how  soon  your 
Excellencies  think  of  returning  to  seek  your  dear  children." 

"March  24. — Francis  is  good,  good,  good;  and  I  am 
now  entirely  satisfied  with  his  conduct  in  everything.  He 
is  respectful,  obedient,  quiet,  has  no  follies  in  his  head,  and 
gives  me  no  anxiety,  so  that  I  almost  repent  of  having 
written  of  the  faults  which  I  now  see  amended.  But  not  the 
less  would  I  thank  his  excellent  parents  for  their  last  letters, 
which  produced  the  greatest  effect  upon  him,  so  that  I  saw 
him  weeping  bitterly,  and  was  obliged  to  console  him. 
The  few  lines  written  by  his  mother  pierced  him  to  the 
heart.  .  .  . 

"  All  the  emigrants  are  driven  out  of  this  Republic,  and 
are  also  exiled  from  the  Romagna.  My  chair  is  at  an  end, 
for  they  will  not  employ  foreign  professors,  by  which  my 
income  is  greatly  diminished,  and  I  fear  that  I  may  perhaps 
be  obliged  to  return  to  my  country,  or  to  go  somewhere 
else.  For  these  reasons  I  would  urge  your  return  to  this 
place  as  soon  as  possible.  The  Rector  does  a  thousand 
kindnesses  to  Francis,  inviting  him  to  dinner  every  Sunday, 
and  sometimes  taking  him  to  the  theatre.  Don  Tineo  is 
setting  out  for  Spain  very  soon :  we  shall  lose  in  him  a  true 
friend,  and  Francis  one  of  those  who  love  him  most. 
Marcus  continues  to  be  the  delight  of  every  one,  and  this 
morning  has  been  running  about  alone  all  over  the  house, 
and  galloping  backwards  and  forwards  between  my  room 
and  that  of  the  Cassandra,  calling  out  '  Tilda,  Tilda.'  I  am 
astonished  at  the  way  in  which  he  understands  everything 
and  explains  himself  after  his  own  fashion.  The  goldfinch 
sings  and  is  well,  but  Smuth  (Smut)  ran  away  last  week  and 
followed  some  strangers  to  Modena,  whence  he  was  brought 
back  to  me  this  morning.  .  .  ." 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMOKCEAUX.  113 

"  May  12,  1798. — I  have  found  a  very  respectable  place 
where  I  can  leave  Francis,  under  eyes  which  will  carefully 
watch  over  his  conduct,  besides  the  surveillance  which  he 
will  receive  from  Count  Fava  and  from  Scandellari.  I  have 
put  off  my  departure  to  the  utmost  possible  limit,  but  I  can- 
not defer  it  beyond  the  last  day  of  May  or  the  beginning  of 
June.  Your  Excellencies  may  well  conceive  what  is  my 
greatest  source  of  anguish  at  present,  if  they  reflect  a  little 
upon  the  changed  circumstances  of  this  country,  and  the  in- 
sufficiency of  the  sum  of  money  which  they  have  sent  me. 
We  are  absolutely  penniless !  The  Rector's  fate  is  also 
hanging  by  a  thread,  and  there  are  circumstances  which 
prevent  my  venturing  to  trouble  him.  I  have  written  two 
letters  to  ask  help  from  Marescotti,  and  he  has  now  sent  me 
a  well-weighed  and  deliberate  negative.  Fava  also  is  not  in 
condition  to  lend  me  even  the  smallest  sum.  Thus  no  hope 
remains  tor  me  if  it  is  not  in  one  single  resource,  and  that 
is  in  imploring  De  Lucca  (the  banker)  to  have  the  kindness 
to  advance  me  a  sum  sufficient  for  the  decent  maintenance 
of  the  children  for  two  months,  by  which  time  I  trust  that 
we  may  receive  from  you  a  less  scanty  remittance  than  the 
last,  or  a  determination  to  recall  your  children.  If  this 
hope  to  which  I  cling  fail  us,  we  are  absolutely  lost,  and  I 
know  not  where  to  turn  to.  I  shall  endeavour  to  obtain  the 
advance  of  150  scudi  if  I  can,  that  I  may  if  possible  have 
some  margin,  and  provide  against  any  unusual  expenses 
which  may  occur.  My  health  is  still  very  feeble,  and  my 
powers  are  so  weakened  by  illness,  that  I  am  unable  to  give 
Francis  his  lessons,  and  let  the  Cassandra  take  my  place 
and  make  him  read  at  least  two  hundred  verses  of  Homer 
daily.  Senni*  is  in  despair  from  want  of  money.  He  at- 
tempted to  make  a  journey  into  Tuscany  in  the  hope  of  re- 

*  The  Hare-Naylor's  Bolognese  man-servant,  who  had  married  Mrs. 
H.  X.'s  English  maid. 

VOL.  1.  I 


114  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

covering  part  of  that  of  which  he  was  robbed  at  Radicofani, 
but  he  has  returned  with  empty  hands,  and  with  the  expense 
of  his  journey  in  addition.  Soon  they  will  publish  a  law 
here  which  we  have  already  seen  in  the  Milanese  news- 
papers, which  will  impose  a  fresh  duty  upon  letters, 
especially  on  those  which  come  and  go  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  Cisalpina,  and  which  will  pay  the  triple  of  what  they 
cost  at  first;  whence  I  must  entreat  you  for  the  future  only 
to  write  on  a  quarter  of  a  sheet  to  save  expense.  Francis  is 
good  and  obedient,  but  is  becoming  idle  in  his  studies,  and, 
from  what  the  Cassandra  tells  me,  has  gone  back  much  in 
the  few  weeks  in  which  I  have  been  ill  in  bed.  In  health 
he  is  perfectly  well,  and  so  are  the  little  Julius  and  Marcus, 
who  become  daily  more  beautiful,  more  lovable,  and  more 
winning.  The  Clotilda  can  scarcely  bear  to  be  separate*' 
from  her  dear  Marcus,  she  is  so  entirely  devoted  to  him : 
he  asks  for  '  bread,'  '  bonbon,'  and  things  of  the  sort.  .  .  . 
I  repeat  once  more  that  you  must  make  up  your  minds  what 
to  do,  and  must  do  something  at  once  that  these  little  angels 
may  not  suffer,  and  that  we  who  are  so  much  interested  in 
their  well-being,  may  be  set  free  from  our  anxieties." 

On  receiving  this  last  letter  of  Aponte  the  Hare-Naylors 
hastened  their  return  to  Bologna,  where  the  admirable  Dom 
Emmanuele  gave  up  his  charge  of  Francis  to  his  parents  in 
person,  before  leaving  with  Clotilda  Tambroni  for  Parma, 
whence  they  proceeded  in  the  following  year  to  Valencia. 

EMMANUELE  APONTE  to  FRANCIS  HARE. 

"Parma,  July  5,  1798.— I  received  your  most  welcome 
letter  from  Bologna  of  the  2nd,  written  in  Spanish,  but 
which,  ctpTycrerai  TO  aXrjdfQ,  seems  to  me  to  have  been 
dictated  by  the  polyglott  citizen.  Nevertheless  it  has  given 


1HE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  115 

me  the  greatest  pleasure,  because  it  shows  a  grateful  re- 
collection of  me  which  I  think  I  have  deserved.  Perhaps 
in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  things,  that  old  proverb  is  true, 
— '  One  knows  one's  good  things  when  one  loses  them.' 
But  if  you  would  do  what  would  be  most  pleasing  to  me  of 
all,  it  would  be,  not  so  much  to  remember  me,  as  to  re- 
collect those  maxims  of  sound  virtue  which  you  have  heard 
from  me  so  many  times.  Entire,,  sincere,  and  hearty  sub- 
mission to  your  parents  ;  kindness  and  courtesy  towards  all ; 
familiarity  with  and  confidence  in  no  one  whom  you  do  not 
know  to  be  honourable  and  virtuous ;  continual  restraint 
over  your  little  passions,  and  most  of  all  over  your  tongue, 
which  you  should  never  allow  to  run  away  with  you  into 
evil  speaking  or  discontented  expressions,  which  should 
abhor  deceit  and  lying,  always  mindful  of  the  precept, 
TO  croijua  i^euSdyutvov  /xicrei  /cat  cbroirreivfi  *ri)v  i/'i'X7?v»  but, 
above  all,  fear  of  the  Most  High  God  and  perfect  faith 
in  his  words,  especially  in  those  which  come  to  us  inscribed 
in  the  Gospel :  this  is  what  I  would  desire  for  you  :  this  it 
is  which  will  make  you  a  useful  member  of  society,  this  it  is 
which  will  make  you  grow  in  favour  with  God  and  man. 
Add  to  this  the  love  of  study:  let  no  day  pass  without  read- 
ing with  attention  at  least  fifty  lines  of  Homer,  and  some 
passages  in  Isocrates  or  Demosthenes,  and  then  I,  though 
absent  from  you  in  body,  shall  be  near  you  in  spirit,  and 
you  may  picture  me  and  see  me  always  by  your  side  just  as 
you  saw  me,  when  we  were  together  in  the  middle  room  of 
the  Casa  Campeggi. 

"  I  would  beg  your  dear  mother  to  receive  my  most 
respectful  salutations,  and  speak  the  name  of  Nono  with 
a  hundred  kisses  to  Julius,  as  well  as  to  my  sweetest 
Marcus.  I  would  not  impress  upon  you,  because  I  am  sure 
that  it  is  needless,  that  you  should  never  quarrel  with  your 
brothers.  Dear  children  !  how  it  goes  to  my  heart  not  to 


Il6  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

see  them  !  Would  that  Heaven  may  hear  my  prayers,  and 
render  them  as  prosperous  and  virtuous,  as  from  my  heart  I 
desire.  They  were  tenderly  loved  by  me,  and  their  pictures 
will  ever  be  stamped  in  my  memory.  To  the  poor  and 
good  Betta  I  would  send  a  salutation,  assuring  her  that 
I  can  never  forget  her  constant  care  of  my  dear 
'nipotini.'  Farewell,  my  dear  Francis,  be  well  and 
happy,  and  think  that  in  every  time  and  place  I  am  your 
true  friend, 

"  E.  M.  APONTE." 

From  Padua,  Aponte  returned  to  Spain,  whence  his  next 
letter. 

"  Valencia,  March  5,  1799. — My  dear,  my  dearest 
Francis, — It  is  impossible  to  tell  the  comfort  your  last 
letter  has  been  to  me.  I  can  only  say  that  your  image, 
with  that  of  your  excellent  parents,  is  always  engraven  on 
my  heart ;  that  Francis,  the  little  Julius,  and  Marcus  are 
continually  before  the  eyes  of  my  spirit,  and  that  I  cannot 
often  restrain  my  tears  at  the  recollection  of  my  four  little 
angels.  I  never  thought  to  have  loved  anything  so  much, 
at  least  with  the  tenderness  which  I  feel.  Everything  that 
concerns  you  is  most  interesting  to  me.  I  rejoice  in  hearing 
of  your  advancement  in  learning — mathematics  especially  I 
am  anxious  that  you  should  study  thoroughly,  but  that  you 
should  not  the  less  continue  your  reading  in  Greek  for  my 
sake ;  read,  indeed,  Isocrates,  because  he  appears  to  be  the 
favourite  orator  in  Padua,*  but  I  should  be  more  anxious 
that  you  should  suck  the  sugar  from  Demosthenes,  whose 
Seivon/e  will  be  most  delightful  to  you;  with  the  help  of 
the  Greek  professor  endeavour  to  penetrate  to  the  founda- 
tions of  his  style,  of  his  legal  phrases,  of  his  intellect ;  and 

•  Francis  was  removed  to  Padua  when  Aponte  left  Bologna. 


THE   HARES    OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  117 

then  without  difficulty  if  you  wish  it  (and  you  ought  to  wish 
it)  you  may  read  Thucydides  by  yourself,  without  neglecting 
the  occasional  reading  of  the  poets,  which  will  serve  not 
only  as  a  relief  and  recreation  amid  your  other  studies,  but 
for  practical  use  in  life  and  its  labours,  if  you  learn  like  the 
bee  to  collect  from  their  flowers  the  juice  which  forms  that 
sweet,  strengthening,  and  life-giving  honey,  sweeter  than 
sugar.  But  that  which  I  have  more  at  heart  than  anything 
else,  is  none  other,  you  well  know,  than  your  progress  in 
virtue.  You  are  already  beginning  to  enter  upon  young 
manhood  :  your  passions  will  daily  become  stronger  :  if  you 
do  not  make  a  courageous  stand  now,  there  will  be  danger 
lest  they  should  get  the  upperhand,  and  lest,  when  you  wish 
to  restrain  them,  it  may  be  too  late.  Read  with  attention 
the  '  Ercole  al  bivio,'  which  you  will  find  amongst  the 
works  of  Xenophon.  Or  if  you  do  not  wish  to  read  it, 
listen  to  the  advice  of  your  mother,  submit  to  the  will  of 
your  father,  consider  how  much  you  are  indebted  to  your 
parents,  and  how  both  nature  and  the  law  of  God  call  upon 
you  to  honour  and  please  them,  persuaded  that  you  cannot 
show  your  love  to  them  better  than  by  proving  your  under- 
standing, appreciation,  and  love  of  what  is  right  .....  Our 
affairs  are  still  not  in  the  state  we  hoped  for,  and  will 
take  time  to  set  in  order;  but  the  Clotilde  hopes  to 
return  to  her  country,  and  I  do  not  lose  the  hope,  so 
I  flatter  myself  (who  knows)  o-vv  ®e<3  of  being  able  once 
more  to  give  you  a  tender  embrace  before  closing  my 
eyes  —  nevertheless  it  should  be  the  care  of  the  younger 
of  us  to  give  this  consolation  to  the  old  man.  Fare- 
well, my  dear  one,  Ippoxro,  KCU  fj.€fitn/](ro  TOU  0tAovrrds  ere 


The   same   sheet   contains  the  following  from  Clotilda 
Tambroni  to  Mrs.  H.  Naylor  :  — 


Tl8  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

"  My  dearest  lady  cannot  imagine  with  what  overflowing 
feelings  of  pleasure  and  tenderness  1  read  her  affectionate 
lines,  or  how  precious  they  are  to  me.  If  you  desire  to  see 
me  again,  I  do  indeed  desire  it  perhaps  with  even  greater 
eagerness,  and  yet  I  cannot  conceal  from  myself  that  I  feel 
it  almost  impossible,  as  well  because  of  the  difficulties  of 
the  journey  to  England,  as  because  filial  love  urges  me  to 
return  as  soon  as  possible  to  my  poor  mother,  and  to  assist 
her,  if  not  otherwise,  at  least  with  my  personal  care  in  her 
old  age.  Certainly  next  to  my  mother,  there  is  no  one 
nearer  my  heart  than  yourself,  and  every  individual  of  your 
dear  family.  I  do  indeed  love  you  and  your  children, 
whom  I  constantly  remember,  and  never  without  a  deep 
sigh  in  the  grief  which  I  feel  in  not  seeing  them,  and  the 
almost  certain  probability  that  I  shall  never  embrace  them 
again.  My  love  for  your  dear  children  must,  I  think,  be 
something  like  the  love  of  a  real  mother,  and  even  while  I 
write  of  them,  my  eyes  are  blinded  with  tears.  But  one 
must  resign  oneself,  and  say,  '  Sic  erat  in  fatis.'  You  will 
nevertheless  bear  me  in  your  heart,  and  will  rest  assured 
that  I  bear  you  in  mine.  I  beg  you  to  give  a  thousand 
kisses  for  me  to  each  of  your,  and  my,  children.  Oh,  my 
most  precious  Marcus,  who  will  already  have  forgotten  us, 
tell  him  that  he  is  engraven  upon  my  inmost  heart,  and 
that  I  shall  always  be,  even  though  far  off,  his  second 
mother;  to  my  dear  little  Julius  say  that  I  love  him  with 
my  whole  soul,  and  to  my  sweetest  Francis  that  I  shall  feel 
the  tenderest  affection  for  him  to  the  last  moment  of  my 
life ;  in  one  word,  that  I  look  upon  them  always  as  my  own 
property,  and  that  their  happiness  is  mine.  What  is  my 
dearest  little  Augustus  doing?  ....  May  you  be  the 
happiest  of  all  mothers  in  seeing  these  dear  children 
healthy,  happy,  and  crowned  with  spiritual  blessings,  and 
together  with  your  husband,  may  you  enjoy  a  long  life  of 


THE   HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  1 19 

maternal  love,  for  their  happiness,  and  for  my  comfort 
Never,  I  entreat  you,  let  me  be  far  from  your  remembrance, 
and  believe  me  your  true  friend  and  sister, 

"'THE  CASSANDRA.'" 

A  year  later  Aponte  and  Clotilda  Tambroni  had  fulfilled 
their  wish  of  returning  to  Bologna. 

EMMANUELE  APONTE  to  FRANCIS  G.  HARE. 

"Bologna,  May  15,  1800. —  .  .  I  am  more  than  persuaded 
that  you  could  never  even  suspect  me  of  forgetting  you.  .  .  . 
You  know  me  well  enough,  and  the  sincerity  of  my  affec- 
tion. I  answered  your  former  letter  as  soon  as  I  received 
it,  with  that  tenderness  and  pleasure  which  true  friends  feel 
who  believe  that  they  deserve,  as  I  think  I  do  from  you, 
the  name  of  a  second  father.  I  congratulated  you  on  your 
love  of  study,  and  I  urged  a  choice  of  the  best  teachers 
upon  you  with  the  same  zeal  and  anxiety  for  your  advan- 
tage which  I  felt  while  I  had  still  the  care  of  you.  In 
reading  I  would  urge  you,  as  a  help  to  your  memory,  to  set 
aside  a  little  extract  book  or  two,  for  making  copies  of  the 
passages  which  strike  or  please  you  most,  especially  in  re- 
gard to  morals,  politics,  and  laws;  because  thus  you  will 
form  for  yourself  a  little  treasury,  which  will  always  be  use- 
ful, and  you  will  show  your  diligence  and  application 
without  danger  of  losing  the  riches  you  have  acquired,  be- 
sides the  most  important  point  of  all — that  of  setting  apart 
the  best  maxims  for  the  guidance  of  all  your  actions,  and 
thus  guarding  yourself  against  the  attacks  of  passion  or  of 
vice.  In  short,  it  is  only  folly  to  struggle  after  light,  if  that 
very  light  leaves  us  in  our  mire,  and  does  not  serve  to  guide 
us  through  its  dangers.  Let  us  be  wise  ;  but  let  us  be  wise 
above  all  in  that  which  may  render  us  useful  to  the  society 
in  which  we  live,  and  especially,  which  may  make  us  useful 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


to  ourselves.  God  be  thanked,  I  am  tolerably  well  in 
health,  but  rather  troubled  with  deafness,  and  sometimes 
with  gout;  I  work  constantly  at  my  grammar,  but  do  not 
know  when  I  can  finish  it,  as  the  publishers  are  now  so  un- 
willing to  undertake  works  of  that  description.  Mezzofanti 
is  perpetually  learning  fresh  languages  :  he  has  learnt  Polish,, 
Hungarian,  German,  Russian,  Armenian,  and  Egyptian,  &c., 
in  addition  to  those  he  knew  before.  He  teaches  the  son 
of  Count  Ranizzi,  and  he  and  his  pupil  Pirino  salute  you, 
with  Don  Angelo,  the  Rector,  the  Professors,  and  all  the 
students  of  Greek.  .  .  .  Never,  when  you  can,  omit  to  give 
the  news  of  yourself  and  your  studies,  and  your  advance 
tfiTTpoa-Otv  TOV  ®eov  KO.I  roiv  av@punr<av,  '  Vale  igitur,  mi  Fran- 
cisce,  et  mei  fac  sis  memor.' 


Thus  much  is  introduced  here  from  the  letters  of  Aponte 
and  Clotilda  Tambroni  because  it  was  to  their  early  training 
that  the  brothers  felt  they  owed  so  many  of  the  principles 
which  guided  their  after  life,  and  which  Francis  transmitted 
to  the  others,  who  were  too  young  to  remember  more  than 
the  almost  parental  affection  of  the  "  Nono  "  and  the 
"  Clotilde." 

It  was  in  1794,  while  she  was  still  residing  at  Bologna, 
that  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  received  the  news  of  the  death  of 
her  brother-in-law,  Sir  William  Jones.  He  had  written  to 
Elizabeth  Shipley,  his  wife's  sister,  that  he  talked  "  of  1  790  as 
the  happy  limit  of  his  residence  in  the  unpropitious  climate 
of  India;"*  but  this  period  was  afterwards  indefinitely 
prolonged.  In  December,  1793,  the  health  of  Lady 
Jones  was  so  affected  by  the  climate  that  a  return  to 
England  was  pronounced  to  be  the  only  means  of  preserving 
*  Letter  to  Mrs.  E.  Shipley,  Sept.  7,  1786. 


THE    HARES    OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  121 

her  life.  She  embarked,  therefore,  for  England,  Sir  William 
being  exceedingly  anxious  for  her  departure,  though  he  had 
previously  declared  that  if  they  were  compelled  to  separate, 
he  should  "  feel  like  a  man  with  a  dead  palsy  on  one  of  his 
sides."*  He  hoped  to  follow  his  wife  in  the  course  of  the 
next  summer,  but  in  the  spring  was  attacked  with  inflamma- 
tion of  the  liver,  and  died  April  27,  1794.  "  He  was  found 
lying  on  his  bed  in  a  posture  of  meditation ;  and  the  only 
symptom  of  remaining  life  was  a  small  degree  of  motion  in 
the  heart,  which,  after  a  few  moments,  ceased,  and  he  ex- 
pired without  a  pang  or  groan.  His  bodily  suffering,  from 
the  complacency  of  his  features  and  the  ease  of  his  attitude, 
could  not  have  been  severe ;  and  his  mind  must  have  de- 
rived consolation  from  those  sources  where  he  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  seeking  it,  and  where  alone,  in  our  last  mo- 
ments, it  can  ever  be  found. "f  Sir  W.  Jones  was  only 
forty-seven  at  the  time  of  his  death.  He  was  buried  at  Cal- 
cutta. A  monument  was  erected  to  him  in  St.  Paul's  by 
the  Directors  of  the  East  India  Company,  and  by  his  widow 
in  the  ante-chapel  of  University  College,  at  Oxford,  where 
there  are  two  portraits  of  him,  both  of  which  have  been 
engraved.  The  following  verses  were  written  to  his  memory 
by  Georgiana,  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  with  whom  he  had 
long  kept  up  a  correspondence  : — 

"  Unbounded  learning,  thoughts  by  genius  framed, 

To  guide  the  bounteous  labours  of  his  pen, 

Distinguish'd  him,  whom  kindred  sages  named  J 

'  The  most  enlightened  of  the  sons  of  men.' 

•  Letter  to  Mrs.  E.  Shipley,  Sept.  7,  1786. 

t  Lord  Teignmouth's  "  Life  of  Sir  W.  Jones."        J  Dr.  Johnson. 


122  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  Upright  through  life,  as  in  his  death  resign'd, 
His  actions  spoke  a  pure  and  ardent  breast ; 
Faithful  to  God  and  friendly  to  mankind, 

His  friends  rever'd  him,  and  his  country  bless'd. 

"  Admired  and  valued  in  a  distant  land, 

His  gentle  manners  all  affection  won  ; 
The  prostrate  Hindu  own'd  his  fostering  hand, 
And  science  mark'd  him  for  her  fav'rite  son. 

"  Regret  and  praise  the  general  voice  bestows, 
And  public  sorrows  with  domestic  blend ; 
But  deeper  yet  must  be  the  grief  of  those 
Who,  while  the  sage  they  honour'd,  loved  the  friend." 

The  desolation  which  Lady  Jones  now  experienced,  and 
the  desire  of  benefiting  her  favourite  sister  by  undertaking 
the  expenses  of  his  education,  induced  her  to  make  the 
offer  of  adopting  the  little  Augustus  Hare,  and  to  desire 
that  he  should  accompany  his  parents  when  they  left  Bologna 
for  England.  From  their  detailed  letters  to  the  little  Francis, 
the  following  passages  are  taken  : — 

"  The  Red  Tower,  Altorf,  Sept.  22,  1797.— We  arrived  at 
Altorf  before  dark.  I  believe  it  would  be,  of  all  others,  the 
most  economical  spot  to  inhabit,  since  you  find  no  food 
either  for  vanity,  taste,  or  learning,  not  an  article  of  luxury 
to  be  purchased,  and  not  one  bookseller's  shop,  even  for 
almanacks  or  magazines.  Yesterday  morning  we  embarked 
on  the  lake,  with  an  idea  of  going  to  Lucerne ;  but  the  wind 
being  contrary,  and  threatening  to  blow  hard,  we  were  pru- 
dent enough  to  change  our  plans,  and  disembark  at  Brunnen, 
after  three  hours'  navigation.  We  there  found  a  cart  to 
convey  our  luggage,  and  walked  to  the  town  of  Schweitz. 
We  stopped  a  moment  at  the  chapel  built  in  memory  of 
William  Tell,  and  Augustus  kissed  the  ground  on  which  he 
stood,  when,  escaping  from  tyranny  and  injustice,  he  had 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMOXCEAUX.  123 

the  boldness  to  throw  himself,  with  his  child,  into  the  stormy 
lake,  and  brave  the  waves,  less  cruel  than  mankind." 

"  Zurich. — We  have  been  this  morning  to  visit  the  cele- 
brated M.  Lavater,  and  I  scarcely  ever  saw  a  man  possessed 
of  more  fire  of  genius,  joined  to  a  greater  simplicity  of 
manners.  He  is  the  author  of  a  celebrated  work  upon 
physiognomy,  and  pretends  to  discover,  in  a  very  great 
degree,  the  human  character  from  the  features  of  the  face. 
As  we  had  no  introduction,  the  regard  with  which  he  re- 
ceived us  was  very  flattering.  You  may  believe  I  was 
anxious  to  show  him  the  heads  of  my  four  angels.*  He 
wrote  two  very  pretty  lines  in  German  upon  them,  but  said 
that  he  had  not  sufficient  time  to  examine  them  separately. 
He  only  said  that  your  head  was  a  physiognomy  to  under- 
stand Greek  well,  and  that  Marcus  would  give  me  the  most 
trouble  of  all  four.  Pray  tell  my  dear  Cassandra  this  pro- 
phecy of  her  son.  At  parting  he  gave  me  a  present  of 
several  of  his  smaller  works  on  religious  subjects,  and  we 
have  settled  a  correspondence  for  the  future." 

"  Carlsruhe,  Oct.  2. — Often,  in  the  course  of  this  journey, 
have  I  thanked  God  for  having  inspired  me  with  the  reso- 
lution to  separate  from  my  boys,  and  to  prefer  their  good  to 
the  fond  indulgence  of  having  them  with  me.  You,  my 
dear  Francis,  would  have  lost  some  of  the  most  precious 
hours  of  your  life,  that  part  which  is  to  fit  you  for  what  you 
are  to  be  hereafter — and  the  fatigue  for  my  two  babies 
would  have  been  beyond  their  years  to  bear.  My  poor  little 
Augustus  has  suffered  much  from  Basle  hither.  .  .  .  One 
night  we  were  sent  on  from  the  station  we  had  intended  to 
stop  at,  every  room  being  taken  ;  and  about  eleven  at  night 
we  arrived,  in  a  hard  rain,  at  a  village  called  Appenweyer  ; 

*  A  picture  by  the  Bolognese  artist  Friuli,  in  which  the  Four 
Brothers  are  thus  represented,  and  which  is  still  in  possession  of  the 
family. 


124  -MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

every  soul  was  gone  to  rest,  and,  after  repeated  callings,  we 
were  answered  that  not  a  bed  could  be  had.  We  then  de- 
manded horses  to  proceed ;  they  said  that  was  impossible. 
as  we  could  not  pass  the  next  village,  and  our  only  hope  o1 
comfort  was  in  my  travelling-bed,  for  me  and  Augustus, 
when,  on  opening  it,  we  found  the  rain  had  penetrated  in 
every  part.  It  was  quite  a  moment  of  despair,  when,  for- 
tunately, the  noise  I  made  disturbed  the  slumbers  of  a 
French  officer.  He  entered  very  good-naturedly  into  our 
distress,  abandoning  to  us  his  own  room,  with  three  beds, 
and  sleeping  himself  on  the  floor  on  his  coat.  A  French 
soldier  was  equally  obliging  in  procuring  us  a  light,  and 
unloading  the  carriage,  yet  we  had  to  suffer  much  from 
cold  and  hunger.  To  this  night  I  owe  a  severe  cold 
and  toothache,  which  confines  me  to  my  room,  while 
your  papa  is  gone  to  dine  with  the  Margrave  of  Baden. 
You  will  often  have  heard  us  speak  of  Carlsruhe  as  the 
place  where  we  passed  the  summer  before  you  were  born. 
It  is  built  in  a  circular  form,  the  palace  forming  the  centre, 
from  which  the  streets  proceed  in  rays.  The  plan  is  cer- 
tainly beautiful,  but  the  buildings  are  in  general  inelegant, 
and  the  plan  is  too  aristocratical  to  please  me.  However, 
the  Margrave  is  an  excellent  man,  who  lives  economically, 
and  studies  to  promote  the  good  of  his  subjects.  He  has  a 
son  just  your  age,  and  I  had  promised  myself  much  plea- 
sure in  seeing  him,  and  comparing  him  with  my  Francis. 
When  we  arrive  in  England,  I  shall  hope  to  find  a  long  and 
interesting  journal  of  all  you  do,  and  all  you  think  ;  it  will 
improve  you  in  the  facility  of  writing  English,  and  it  will 
continue  you  in  the  habit  of  treating  your  parents  with  that 
confidence  which  their  indulgence  and  affection  have  a  right 
to  claim.  I  expect  to  hear  all  your  faults  candidly  told, 
that  my  advice  may  assist  you  in  mending  and  correcting 
them ;  if  you  tell  me  you  are  always  good,  I  shall  not  be- 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  125 

lieve  it,  for  it  is  neither  for  your  age,  nor  for  human  frailty, 
but  I  hope  to  hear  that  you  are  attentive  to  everything 
which  is  said  by  your  excellent  friends,  and  that  when  your 
spirits  lead  you  to  transgress  or  slight  that  advice,  you  are 
repentant  and  concerned.  This  I  have  a  right  to  hope  from 
your  good  sense  and  good  heart,  and  if  I  hear  otherwise 
you  will  disappoint  me." 

"Oct.  5. — Still  at  Carlsruhe,  my  dear  Francis,  and  still 
suffering  much,  yet  to-morrow  we  have  fixed  to  recommence 
our  journey,  for  as  quiet  and  rest  do  not  cure  me,  it  is  but 
suffering  a  little  more,  and  we  get  on,  though  God  knows 
which  road  we  are  now  to  take.  I  never  saw  your  papa  lose 
his  courage  so  totally,  and  I  shall  not  be  surprised  any 
morning  to  set  out  for  Hamburgh,  that  he  may  go  a  road  he 
knows  to  be  open,  no  matter  how  far  round ;  indeed,  he  will 
have  one  proverb  on  his  side,  '  The  farthest  way  about  is 
the  nearest  way  home;'  and  as  to  me,  I  suffer  so  much,  that 
having  now  pain  added  to  fatigue,  I  feel  the  indifference  of 
desperation,  and  care  not  where  we  go — all  I  pray  is  that 
at  last  we  may  arrive  safe  in  England.  There  is  every  ap- 
pearance of  hostilities  recurring,  and,  on  the  part  of  Austria, 
with  faint  prospect  of  success,  and  no  one  doubts  seeing 
the  tree  of  liberty  planted  at  Vienna  before  Christmas.  It 
may  be  planted  anywhere  with  my  good  wishes,  except  at 
Carlsruhe,  and  here  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  it ;  indeed, 
would  every  sovereign  imitate  the  Margrave  of  Baden,  and 
seek  like  him  to  reign  in  the  hearts  of  his  subjects,  he  need 
but  little  fear  either  French  troops  or  French  principles. 
His  son,  who  I  told  you  was  nearly  your  age,  has  the  disad- 
vantage of  being  an  only  son,  and  his  parents'  too  fond  in- 
dulgence promises  to  ruin  their  best  hopes — caprice  they 
call  genius,  passion  passes  for  spirit,  and  so  on.  How  much, 
my  dear  Francis,  is  such  a  boy  to  be  pitied,  and  what  grati- 
tude do  you  owe  to  the  good  Dom  Emmanuele,  who  loves 


126  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

you  for  your  own  good !  Tell  me  all  and  everything.  Salute 
affectionately  il  Nono  and  la  madre  dei  miei  figli,  and  be 
assured  your  papa  and  I  love  you  most  tenderly." 

"  Saarlibre,  Oct.  10. — I  never  saw  your  papa  better  pleased 
than  when  we  quitted  the  Austrian  lines,  and  entered  the 
French,  and  now  everything  goes  well,  and  he  is  as  happy 
as  possible,  conversing  with  every  soldier  and  every  officer 
he  meets,  and  confessing  with  me,  how  much  the  liberty 
of  thinking  improves  the  human  mind,  and  how  much 
superior  is  the  republican  to  the  automedons  we  have 
parted  from." 

"  Morlatner,  Oct.  n. — It  is  a  pleasant  sight  to  travel 
through  France,  and  to  behold  the  comfort  and  opulence  of 
the  farmers  and  peasants ;  the  ground  is  everywhere  well 
cultivated,  and  herds  of  cattle  descend  into  the  villages  at 
evening,  and  at  every  poor  man's  house  stop  his  cows,  his 
sheep,  his  hogs,  and  his  geese.  Indeed,  my  dear  Francis, 
I  am  much  surprised  at  the  general  appearance  of  comfort 
which  prevails  among  the  peasantry,  who  were  formerly  poor 
and  oppressed,  but  now  seem  rich  and  comfortable.  They  are 
perhaps  the  only  class  of  society  who  have  really  profited  by 
the  revolution,  but  their  situation  is  surprisingly  ameliorated. 
....  At  Metz  a  band  of  military  music  played  at  our 
door,  'pour  1'honneur  L'Angleterre.'  .  .  .  With  honour, 
courage,  and  generosity,  those  virtues  of  ancient  chivalry, 
may  my  four  sons  possess  those  solid  virtues,  which  render 
life  happiest  in  a  private  station." 

"  Avesnes,  Oct.  14. — We  continue  advancing  fast  on  our 
journey  without  any  difficulty  or  impediment;  everyplace 
as  quiet  as  in  perfect  peace,  the  churches  everywhere  open, 
and  the  fast  observed  on  Fridays  and  Saturdays  so  strict, 
even  at  the  inns,  as  to  make  us  fare  very  ill.  Sunday  too  is 
kept  as  a  fete,  but  all  shops  are  open,  and  a  man  works,  01 
goes  to  church,  or  amuses  himself  as  he  likes, — in  short,  I 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  127 

perceive  scarce  any  alteration,  except  that  people  talk 
politics  and  are  discontented  as  in  England.  As  for  me,  I 
am  heartily  sick  of  travelling,  and  look  forward  to  no  com- 
fort, until  I  can  again  give  my  blessing  to  my  Francis  and 
his  two  dear  brothers." 

'•'•Lisle. — My  next  letter  will,  if  God  pleases,  be  dated 
from  London.  Augustus  talks  very  often  of  you,  and  tells 
every  one  he  loves  you  best  of  all.  He  is  very  well  again, 
and  much  amused  with  the  windmills.  Adieu,  my  dearest 
boy.  I  recommend  you  always  in  my  prayers  to  the  care  of 
God  Almighty." 

As  soon  as  the  Hare-Naylors  arrived  in  England,  they  pro- 
ceeded to  Hurstmonceaux.  It  seems  that  they  had  never 
before  understood  how  completely  the  castle  was  a  ruin,  and 
great  was  their  anger  at  beholding  it,  and  bitter  their  resent- 
ment at  the  injustice  of  their  stepmother,  upon  whom  the 
little  Francis  was  encouraged  to  write  Greek  epigrams  at 
Bologna.  Among  other  injuries,  Mrs.  Henrietta  Hare,  in  a  fit 
of  jealousy,  had  destroyed  the  oil  portrait  of  her  predecessor, 
the  beautiful  Miss  Selman,  only  preserving  the  figure  of  her 
child  (Francis  H.  Naylor)  riding  upon  a  stick.  With  the 
"  Place  "  itself  they  were  much  pleased. 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  LADY  JONES. 

" Hurstmonceaux  Place,  Oct.  29, 1 797. — I  am  most  impatient 
to  see  you,  and  yet  Twyford  will  recall  ten  thousand  melan- 
choly ideas.  Had  you  been  in  town,  I  would  have  persuaded 
you  to  give  your  preference  to  Hurstmonceaux,  where  new 
objects  and  new  schemes  offer  themselves,  and  we  want 
your  advice  about  a  thousand  things.  The  place  is  delight- 
ful, and  charms  me  froco  not  being  so  magnificent  as  I  ex- 


128  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

pected,  or  leading  to  any  uncommon  expenses.  The  house 
is  vastly  comfortable,  but  if  we  live  in  England  it  is  not 
larger  than  we  should  desire,  and  every  piece  of  the  ground 
may  be  turned  to  profit.  It  possesses  all  the  beauties  of  a 
fine  place,  with  the  comforts  and  pleasures  of  a  small  one ; 
the  parish  too  is  just  what  one  could  wish,  not  so  large,  of 
so  poor,  but  what  we  might  be  the  means  of  giving  much 
happiness.  I  think  Prudence  will  recommend  us  to  live 
here  or  live  in  Italy ;  the  first  I  hope,  not  again  to  be 
separated  from  so  beloved  a  sister.  We  were  received  with 
such  natural  demonstrations  of  joy,  and  my  Hare  seems  so 
much  to  possess  the  hearts  of  his  tenants,  that  I  have  spent 
some  delicious  hours.  As  to  our  name,  we  prefer  the  name 
of  Hare  to  Naylor  as  plus  noble,  but  we  shall  continue  to  sign 
all  letters,  papers,  deeds,  &c.,  by  the  name  of  Hare-Naylor, 
as  we  have  hitherto  done,  and  the  generality  I  imagine  will 
give  us  both  names,  which  makes  least  confusion,  and  is 
what  we  would  like  best  for  many  reasons." 

"  Bolton  Street,  Nov.  i,  1797. — I  know  not  how  to  ex- 
press my  sense  of  all  your  kindnesses.  We  are  here  in 
your  house  receiving  every  attention  and  enjoying  every 
comfort,  as  if  we  were  served  by  our  own  servants  and  had 
long  been  settled.  My  boy  is  in  love  with  your  maid  Hick- 
man,  and  calls  her  'The  Lady  of  the  Bird.'  ...  As  to 
change  of  person,  you  will  find  it  in  me,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  I  shall  find  it  in  you.  Hickman  thinks  me  like  you, 
but  thinner.  Sorrow  brings  with  it  change  of  health  and 
change  of  spirits,  and  whose  sorrow  was  ever  like  yours  ?  yet 
every  action  and  every  thought  shows  me  my  own  kind  and 
beloved  Anna — she,  whose  affection  for  me  was  ever  tnfe 
affection — interested  in  my  conduct,  and  anxious  that  I 
should  be  esteemed  as  she  esteemed  me.  I  fear  I  shall 
not  do  half  the  right  or  proper  things  which  you  suggest — 
want  of  time  and  want  of  carriage  are  two  good  excuses. 


THE    HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  129 

The  Dowager  Lady  Spencer*  has  written  to  me  that  she 
hopes  to  see  me  in  town  ;  the  young  one  t  I  will  write  to. 
We  think  of  arriving  at  Twyford  the  day  your  maid  does, 
and  if  we  come  to  dinner  it  may  hurry  your  spirits  less  than 
in  the  evening ;  with  this  idea  we  think  of  sleeping  one  night 
either  at  Hampton  or  Heckfield.  My  feelings  are  full  of 
gratitude  to  God  for  allowing  me  to  live  to  so  blessed  an 
hour,  mixed  with  regret  for  your  loss,  for  our  loss,  for  the 
world's  loss.  I  could  not,  without  tears,  visit  your  apart- 
ment, to  reflect  that  it  wanted  its  chief  ornament  and 
treasure.  What  is  wealth  without  it  ?  But  tried  as  you  have 
been,  it  is  my  prayer  that  to  me  and  my  children  it  may  be 
given  to  make  you  know  all  the  comfort  you  yet  can  feel. 
I  have  a  very  kind  letter  from  my  brother.  I  always  loved 
him,  nor  do  I  know,  except  from  others,  that  he  ever  felt 
displeased  with  me." 

"  Bolton  Street,  Nov.  4. — All  the  quiet  happy  castles  I  had 
built  with  you  at  Twyford  seem  tottering  from  their  founda- 
tion. It  is  true,  I  most  anxiously  wished  for  an  interview 
with  my  dearest  brother,  but  the  idea  of  spending  a  month 
or  six  weeks  at  Bath  does  not  suit  my  wish  for  quiet  and 
repose,  and  the  pleasure  of  social  converse  over  old  times 
with  my  beloved  sister  with  which  I  had  flattered  myself. 
Mrs.  Ann  Hare  |  found  us  in  bed  this  morning,  and  is  now 
talking  so  fast  I  scarce  know  what  I  write.  The  Lefevres 
arrive  to-day,  and  express  much  pleasure  at  the  idea  of  see- 
ing us  •  indeed,  I  find  more  friends  than  I  expected,  but  I 
find  not  my  dearest  sister,  for  whom  alone  I  consented  to 

leave  my  three  angels I  have  written  to  young  Lady 

Spencer,  who  has  not  as  yet  honoured  me  with  an  answer. 

*  Margaret  Georgiana  Poyntz,  whose  mother  was  first  cousin  of  Mrs. 
Shipley,  the  wife  of  John,  first  Earl  Spencer. 

t  Lavinia,  wife  of  George  John,  second  Earl  Spencer. 
J  Only  surviving  daughter  of  Bishop  Hare. 
VOL.  I.  K 


130  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

So  much  the  better.  I  have  no  ambition,  and  independence 
and  comfort  are  in  our  power.  If  we  regain  Buckholt, 
;£  1 7,000  we  shall  have,  perhaps  too  much  for  that  media 
vita  I  wish  for  myself  and  my  boys. 

"  P.S.— I  have  this  moment  a  most  gracious  visit  from  Lady 
Spencer,  only  very  angry  I  have  a  son  named  Marcus."  * 

The  plan  of  joining  Mrs.  Shipley  at  Bath  was  carried  out, 
and  thence  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  wrote  to  little  Francis  at 
Bologna. 

"Dec.  n,  1797. — Yesterday  I  finished  a  long  letter  to 
my  dear  Cassandra,  and  to-day  I  once  more  take  up  my 
journal  to  my  dear  Francis,  which  has  been  so  interrupted. 
....  Novels  are  the  present  fashionable  study  in  England, 
and  everything  is  read,  good  or  bad,  which  bears  that  title ; 
even  your  papa  is  obliged  to  follow  the  current,  as  the  con- 
versation, in  whatever  society,  falls  upon  this  topic ;  we  have 
had  two  which  are  the  most  talked  of — '  The  Monk,1  which 
is  an  assemblage  of  crimes,  horrors,  and  improbabilities,  but 
calculated  to  excite  the  passions,  and  therefore  read ;  and 
'  Caleb  Williams,'  whose  author  is  among  the  illuminated  of 
the  present  age,  but  as  his  hero,  who  is  drawn  a  model  of 
honour  and  moral  rectitude,  is  led  by  circumstances  to  com- 
mit murder  and  other  atrocious  crimes,  I  think  a  reflecting 
mind  may  fairly  extract  this  conclusion,  that  religion  alone 
has  sufficient  power  to  preserve  man  from  evil. 

"  Dec.  14. — I  should  not,  my  dear  Francis,  have  dwelt  so 
long  on  the  present  state  of  literature  in  England  if  I  did 
not  consider  that  it  is  the  truest  test  of  the  character  of  its 
inhabitants.  They  are  sunk  into  an  indolence  of  mind 

*  Her  not  having  seen  any  of  her  relations  since  their  anger  at  her 
marriage  caused  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's  anxiety  as  to  their  reception  of  her. 


THE    HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  131 

which  requires  to  be  fed  by  such  productions  as  these,  and 
hence  it  is  that,  unless  an  author  can  excite  their  passions, 
warm  their  imaginations,  or  awaken  their  curiosity,  he  has 
little  chance  -of  being  praised,  and  still  less  of  being  read. 

"  Paoli  dined  with  us  to-day,  and  we  talked  over  the 
adventures  of  his  interesting  life,  and  I  wished  that  the 
Republic  possessed  two  or  three  such  patriots.  He  has  been 
ill-treated  by  all  governments  and  all  parties,  being  himself 
a  stranger  to  that  egoism  which  pervades  every  scene  of  this 
corrupted  age.  It  is  a  vice  so  odious  that  I  wish  it  may  be 
banished  from  the  world  before  you  enter  upon  your  part, 
and  I  think  it  will,  for  surely  there  must  be  a  great  change 
in  morals  and  conduct  ere  long. 

"  Since  I  came  to  Bath  I  have  only  bought  a  Pliny.  All 
my  money  goes  away  in  caps  and  bawbles,  while  I  regret 
the  sad  necessity  of  conforming  to  fashion,  and  consider  my 
four  boys,  like  Cornelia,  above  all  jewels.  Tell  the  Rettore 
I  see  every  day  Lady  Bolingbroke,  and  that  we  often  talk  of 
him  and  his  obliging  attentions  to  the  pretty  women  of  our 
nation.  We  are  invited  to  return  to  the  Palmerstons  after 
Christmas,  and  then  I  shall  more  particularly  think  of  my 
Francis,  though  the  certainty  of  the  permanent  good  you 
will  derive  from  the  lessons  of  our  respected  Dom  Emmanuel 
stifles  every  regret  as  it  rises,  and  I  believe  you  happier 
there  than  you  would  be  with  us,  since  an  occupied  life  is 
always  happy,  and  we,  on  the  contrary,  exist  in  a  kind  of 
noise  and  confusion,  which  annihilates  every  faculty.  This 
evening  I  may  indeed  call  comfortable,  since  I  am  left  alone 
to  write  to  my  darling,  or  to  pursue  my  next  favourite  employ- 
ment of  reading  and  reflection.  Assure  II  Nono  and  La 
Sorella  mia  amata  that  I  am  eternally  attached  to  them,  and 
accept  my  warmest  prayers  and  blessing." 

"Dec.  27. — On  Monday  I  went  to  hear  a  celebrated 
preacher,  to  receive  the  sacrament,  and  with  a  grateful  heart 


132  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

to  pray  for  blessings  on  my  four  boys.  The  preacher  dis- 
appointed me,  not  in  his  manner,  but  as  to  matter.  He  was 
for  dividing  faith  and  reason,  while  I  am  for  uniting  them  \ 
true  reason  must  ever  support  true  faith,  since  they  both 
come  from  God,  and  the  mental  powers  He  has  given  us 
were  no  doubt  intended  to  fortify  our  faith,  however  man 
may  have  perverted  his  own  nature.  Dr.  Randolph,  on  the 
contrary,  would  have  us  believe  and  not  inquire.  A  Moham- 
medan, or  a  Pagan,  can  be  advised  to  do  no  other,  but  the 
Christian  surely  has  a  nobler  doctrine  to  teach. 

"  Your  letter  of  Nov.  1 1  is  written  with  a  warmth  of 
patriotism  which  does  honour  to  your  feelings,  but  would 
not  suit  the  present  times  :  when  a  government  possesses  so 
great  an  influence  over  the  minds  and  passions  of  the  nation, 
a  wise  man  must  only  sigh  in  private.  Pitt  has  gotten  the 
pride  of  Englishmen  on  his  side,  and  pride  has  more  particu- 
larly ever  been  the  strongest  feature  in  the  national  charac- 
ter of  England.  Before  you  are  of  an  age  to  act  your  part 
on  this  world's  stage,  this  government  will  have  undergone 
a  reform,  in  which  case  the  true  patriot  in  serving  his  country 
will  advance  himself ;  or  otherwise,  it  will  have  settled  into 
so  complete  a  despotism  founded  on  corruption,  that  the 
efforts  of  a  single  man  will  avail  no  more  than  in  Athens 
a  Demosthenes  opposing  the  gold  of  Philip.  Yet  even  in 
this  worst  state  of  things,  the  principles  you  now  hold  will 
operate  so  far  as  to  make  you  remember  in  every  action  of 
your  life  that  the  poor  and  the  rich  are  the  same  in  the 
eyes  of  God,  and  while  prudence  may  teach  you  to  mode- 
rate your  zeal  in  the  cause  of  political  freedom,  you  will 
perceive  that  large  is  the  power  of  doing  good  and  being 
useful  to  mankind,  under  whatever  government  you  live." 

The  prudence  which  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  inculcated  in  her 
children  with  regard  to  their  political  conduct  was  in  no- 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  133 

wise  evinced  by  her  husband,  whose  violent  and  democratic 
principles  made  him  many  enemies.  Even  the  friends  who 
at  first  sympathized  with  him  were  generally  alienated 
by  the  violence  of  his  political  conduct,  so  that  "  the  Hare 
with  many  friends"  became  a  by-word.  At  one  time  he 
received  the  offer  of  a  baronetcy,  which  he  rejected,  and 
professed  to  despise  as  one  of  the  aristocratic  distinctions 
against  which  he  was  always  inveighing.  His  public  im- 
prudence was  a  great  disadvantage  to  his  children.  Lady 
Jones  alludes  to  this  in  a  letter  she  wrote  to  them  many 
years  afterwards  : — 

"  Your  father  will  never  get  over  the  unfavourable  impres- 
sion of  the  violent  democratic  expressions  he  made  use  of 
on  his  first  return  to  England;  they  not  only  stick  by  him. 
but  have  been  of  great  disadvantage  to  his  children  ;  you 
will  find  it  necessary  through  life  to  remember  that  the 
prejudice  of  the  world  in  that  respect  is  against  you." 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1798  that  the  Hare-Naylors  re- 
turned to  Bologna  to  seek  their  children.  They  reached 
Italy  in  June  in  time  to  see  "  the  Cassandra  "  and  Aponte 
before  their  departure  from  Bologna,  and  then  removed 
for  a  time  to  Padua,  where  the  education  of  Francis  was 
continued  under  the  Abbate  Sinigaglia  and  other  professors 
of  the  University.  During  this,  their  last  visit  to  Italy,  they 
formed  the  fine  collection  of  pictures,  which  they  afterwards 
had  at  Hurstmonceaux.  Of  this  time  is  the  following : — 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  LADY  JONES. 

"Bologna,  June  23,  1798. — Here  is  an  anecdote  of 
Francis  which  I  think  will  please  you,  as  it  evinces  a  degree 


134  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

of  presence  of  mind  uncommon  at  his  age.  He  was  at 
dinner  at  a  gentleman's  house  in  the  country,  when  one  of 
the  servants  came  in  to  say  there  was  a  man  in  the  court, 
with  a  dromedary  and  a  bear.  Francis  immediately  jumped 
up  from  table,  ran  out  alone  to  see  the  beasts,  and  as  their 
conductor  assured  him  there  was  no  danger,  he  began  play- 
ing with  the  bear ;  the  animal  immediately  seized  him  in  his 
paws,  and  the  owner,  instead  of  coming  to  his  assistance, 
cried  out  to  him  in  a  fright,  '  Defend  yourself,  or  you  are 
dead.'  Upon  this,  Francis,  who  had  observed  that  the  bear 
was  blind  in  one  eye,  struck  the  beast  with  all  his  force  in 
the  good  eye;  the  bear  instantly  let  go  his  hold,  Francis 
seized  the  moment,  and  getting  loose  from  his  grasp,  fled  as 
fast  as  he  could  towards  the  house.  The  bear  ran  after  him, 
and  tore  his  cheek  with  his  paw,  which  was  all  the  injury  he 
received.  All  this  passed  without  anybody  knowing  the  least 
of  the  matter ;  the  boy  returned  to  table,  said  the  bear  had 
scratched  his  face,  continued  to  play  as  usual  during  the 
rest  of  the  evening,  nor  was  the  story  known  till  the  follow- 
ing day,  when  it  was  in  everybody's  mouth  at  Bologna." 

The  intense  happiness  which  the  Hare-Naylors  looked  for 
in  an  English  home  may  be  seen  from — 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  LADY  JONES. 

" Padua,  March  16,  1799. — My  weak  state  confirms  me 
in  an  idea  I  have  long  taken  up,  that  -we  shall  never  arrive 
at  settling  with  our  family  at  Hurstmonceaux,  from  a  per- 
suasion that  our  life  would  be  then  too  happy  for  our  mortal 
state.  It  was  the  same  thing  with  you,  my  beloved  sister, 
when  happiness  was  almost  within  the  grasp,  that  visionary 

deity  vanished  from  your  sight In  all  my  fatigues 

I  have  thought  of  my  sweet  Augustus  enjoying  every  comfort 
and  attention,  happy  and  beloved  by  my  dearest  sister,  for 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  135 

I  feel  assured  the  better  you  are  acquainted  with  him,  the 
more  dear  he  will  become  to  you.  He  is  endowed  with  one 
of  those  happy  soils,  which  need  little  culture  and  little  care, 

as  weeds  cannot  take  root  in  his  sweet  mind I 

wish  very  much  that  Jules  and  Marcus  may  preserve  their 
present  beauty,  till  you  see  them :  Jules  is  a  true  Mordaunt 
face,  and  Marcus  is  the  very  image  of  his  father.  Francis 
too  is  remarkably  well-looking,  and  so  amiable  and  attractive 
in  his  manners,  so  much  knowledge,  and  so  much  vivacity, 
I  am  sure  you  will  be  partial  to  him  :  indeed,  I  long  for  you 
to  see  them  all,  though  none  will  excel  my  dear  Augustus  in 
sweetness  of  temper,  and  sensibility  of  disposition — in- 
deed they  may  well  call  them  Us  quatrefils  dfAymon." 

In  the  spring  of  1799  the  Hare-Naylors  returned  to 
England  with  all  the  children,  and  before  settling  at  their 
own  home,  took  them  to  visit  Mrs.  Shipley  at  Bath. 
The  following  letter  from  Lady  Jones  to  the  Dowager  Lady 
Spencer  was  written  then  : — 

"July  17,  1799. — I  can,  thank  God,  continue  to  make  a 
most  comfortable  report  of  my  mother.  She  has  been 
bustling  about  in  her  dear  little  old  ways,  arranging  things 
for  her  Italian  children,  and  the  finding  herself  equal  to 
such  little  exertion  has  certainly  mended  her  spirits.  The 
Hares  arrived  to  tea  yesterday,  all  vastly  well.  Jule  and 
Marcus  are  very  lovely  engaging  babes,  and  Francis,  whom 
we  were  quite  prepared  to  see  an  awkward,  shy,  plain  boy, 
is  quite  the  reverse — I  really  think  a  most  remarkably 
pleasing  face,  and  his  manners  are  totally  unaffected  and 
unpresuming,  lively  and  boyish,  which  I  feared,  with  his 
knowledge  (which  for  his  years  is  extraordinary),  would  not 
have  been  the  case.  My  poor  little  Augustus  certainly 


136  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

appears  to  disadvantage  by  his  b'others,  but  I  believe  his 
mind  is  as  amiable,  and  that  he  is  likely  to  prove  as  great  a 
blessing  to  his  parents  as  any  of  them.  I  hope  we  shall 
manage  not  to  let  them  be  too  much  of  a  worry  to  my 
mother,  and  then  they  will  amuse  and  do  her  good.  I 
keep  the  rock-horse  in  my  dining  parlour,  which  is  constant 
lure  for  them  to  be  there  the  greatest  part  of  the  day,  and  a 
tintamarre-de-diable  they  have  been  making  there  these  last 
three  hours,  God  bless  their  little  throats." 

During  this  summer's  residence  at  Bath,  Mrs.  Hare- 
Naylor  formed  the  greatest  friendship  of  her  later  life  with 
Miss  Bowdler,  whose  literary  and  classical  tastes  formed  a 
bond  between  them.  She  accompanied  the  family  to 
Hurstmonceaux,  where  on  October  9,  1799,  Mrs.  Hare- 
Naylor  gave  birth  to  her  youngest  child,  Anna-Maria 
Clementina, 

A  long  series  of  letters  to  her  beloved  sister  Anna 
describe  the  family  life,  which  began  most  peacefully  and 
happily  at  Hurstmonceaux,  where  the  Hare-Naylors  settled 
with  the  conviction  that  they  should  be  able  to  live  quietly 
within  their  income,  and  filled  with  schemes  for  the  assist- 
ance and  improvement  of  their  poorer  neighbours.  Too 
soon,  however,  they  found  that  the  expenses  of  an  im- 
poverished estate  and  a  house  greatly  out  of  repair  were 
far  beyond  their  receipts,  and  life  became  a  constant 
struggle,  filled  with  anxieties  as  to  the  sale  of  some  of  the 
pictures  they  had  brought  from  Italy,  or  the  production  of 
Mr.  Naylor's  plays  of  The  Mirror,  and  The  Age  of  Chivalry 
at  Drury  Lane,  to  which  they  looked  almost  for  the 
absolute  means  of  subsistence.  Indeed,  they  could  not 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  137 

have  lived  at  all,  but  for  the  constant  and  unwearied  assist- 
ance of  "  the  best  of  sisters." 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  LADY  JONES. 

"  Hurstmonceaux  Place,  Dec.  31,  1799. — I  am  made  very 
anxious  by  your  account  of  Augustus,  and  though  that  dear 
boy  has  been  longer  absent  from  us  than  any  of  our  other 
children,  yet  a  mother  is  always  a  mother,  and  in  my  heart 
my  affection  for  him  is  mixed  with  my  affection  for  the  rest : 
five  children,  yourself,  and  Hare,  fill  it,  as  in  one  mass  of 
blessings.  I  am  saddened  by  the  thought  of  my  dear 
mother,  and  can  guess  what  she  must  suffer  from  any 
diminution  of  her  powers  of  sight,  because  I  have  often 
said,  that  the  privation  of  light  is  the  only  misfortune 
perhaps  to  which  our  nature  is  liable,  which  I  believe  I 
should  never  bear  with  fortitude  or  patience ;  here  reason,  I 
fear,  would  lose  her  influence. 

"  Wilberforce  writes  to  inquire  when  we  shall  be  in  town, 
that  he  and  his  wife  may  renew  our  acquaintance  and  friend- 
ship. He  says  he  and  my  husband  think  so  much  alike  on 
politics,  he  will  venture  to  say  to  him,  he  fears  there  can  be 
no  safety  while  France  is  a  republic  with  all  the  energy  and 
irritability  which  the  reform  possesses.  You  who  condemn 
my  politics,  I  am  persuaded,  do  not  know  what  they  are ;  it 
is  to  Mr.  Wilberforce  and  Hannah  More  I  will  appeal,  when 
I  want  a  good  character.  We  have  nearly  concluded  her 
book,  but  although  I  go  very  far  with  her  in  her  system  of 
education,  I  think  she  repeats  so  often  the  word  Christian 
she  will  surfeit  numbers,  just  as  honey,  if  the  dose  is  too 
strong,  will  pall  the  stomachs  of  children.  We  are  by 
nature  such  lovers  of  variety,  that  even  goodness  and 
religion  should  be  recommended  under  various  forms  in 
order  not  to  clog.  As  for  me,  my  religion  is  as  simple  as 
my  politics,  and  as  I  think  the  best  government  that  where 


138  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

people  are  most  virtuous  and  most  happy,  so  in  religion,  I 

f     think  the  simple  study  of  the  Scriptures  with  the  moral 

(     duties  they  teach  and  the  rewards  they  promise,  far  more 

calculated  to  inspire  true  piety  and  cheerful  dependence  on 

God's  providence,  than  an  inquiry  into  all  those  obscure 

'  systems  of  faith,  grace,  and  original  sin,  on  which  saints 

and  theologians  have  written  sine  fine" 

"Feb.  i,  1800. — The  rejection  of  The  Mirror  was  a  dis- 
appointment to  me,  because  I  see  pieces  in  every  way 
inferior  are  continually  produced ;  but  I  suspect  Sheridan 
has  an  old  private  pique  to  gratify.  Our  pictures  too,  I 
fear,  are  in  no  likely  method  of  producing  money,  and  I 
feel  that  the  dear  Poussin  must  be  sacrificed  for  half  its 
value  if  we  can  no  otherwise  raise  sufficient  money  to  pay 

the  bills  we  owe To  be  sure,  coming  into  possession 

of  a  place  so  out  of  repair  and  unfurnished  as  we  found 
this,  while  possessed  ourselves  of  no  ready  money,  gave  us 
from  the  first  great  difficulties  to  struggle  with." 

"  Pray  read  the  gth  chapter  of  Revelation.  It  has  struck 
me  vastly,  particularly  the  following  verse  :  '  And  they  had 
a  king  over  them,  which  is  the  angel  of  the  bottomless  pit, 
whose  name  in  the  Hebrew  is  Abaddon,  but  in  the  Greek 
tongue  he  hath  his  name  Apollyon!  Now  the  Christian 
name  of  Bonaparte  is  Napollione,  which  is  evidently  a 
Corsican  corruption  of  the  Greek — the  only  change  being 
in  the  N,  otherwise  the  word  is  merely  Italianised.  The 
concluding  denunciation  of  ruin  is  so  terrific,  that  I  think 
our  pious  ministers  might  read  and  tremble." 

"  I  cannot  but  write  my  list  of  family  misfortunes.  Our 
best  pigs  are  very  ill  and  likely  to  die,  after  all  the  great 
expense  we  have  been  in  at  fatting  them.  In  short  nothing 
thrives  without  doors  ;  and  within  doors  the  library  chimney 
has  taken  to  smoke  so  much,  that  I  am  obliged  even  of  an 
evening  to  sit  with  the  window  open.  .  .  ." 


THE    HARES   OF    HURSTMOXCEAUX.  139 

"Feb.  27,  1800. — I  think  of  all  our  disappointments  the 
greatest  has  come  from  our  History  of  Switzerland.  As  for 
the  other  pictures,  they  must  be  put  up  at  a  public  sale.  I 
think  we  are  rather  in  want  of  a  present  sum  of  money  for 
furniture  and  stock,  than  any  increase  of  income,  as  I  am 
convinced,  if  we  were  once  set  a-going,  we  should  find  our 
income  equal  to  our  wants.  I  wish  I  could  flatter  myself 
into  a  Belief  that  a  view  of  those  pictures  you  have  chosen 
would  be  a  source  of  pleasure  to  you.  I  confess  they  were 
so  to  me,  and  that  the  Poussin  especially  gave  to  my  senti- 
ments that  tranquil  character  with  which  in  it  our  Saviour 
as  an  infant  regards  the  future  cross.  I  never  felt  it,  except 
in  that  and  one  other,  a  Guido  which  represents  the  cruci- 
fixion, before  which  I  have  knelt  and  prayed  with  a  more 
entire  giving  up  of  the  whole  mind  than  happened  to  me 
anywhere  else." 

"May  ii,  1800. — May  is  come,  and  yet  you  are  waiting 
in  London,  and  lose  all  the  charms  of  this  season  in  this 
beautiful  place.  Why  do  you  go  and  look  at  villas  near 
London,  and  not  come  to  your  own  villa  at  Hurstmonceaux  ? 
At  least  come  and  pass  this  month  with  us,  and  do  not 
think  of  going  to  live  by  yourself  en  misanthrope,  while  we 
are  here,  whose  domestic  joys  will  be  so  enlarged  by  your 
partaking  them.  No  words  can  paint  the  charms  of  this 
place,  and  Hare  and  I  never  walk  arm  in  arm  contem- 
plating the  scene  and  speaking  of  our  mutual  happi- 
ness, without  giving  a  sigh  to  the  absence  of  our  only 

friend The  Montpellier  Terrace,  as  I  call  the 

footpath  to  church,  is  always  dry,  and  warm,  and  sheltered : 
when  our  sun  is  too  hot,  the  shrubbery  is  pleasant ;  and 
when  you  choose  both  sun  and  air  there  is  the  road  to  the 
gate  nearly  completed.  God  bless  you,  my  more  than 
sister,  and  reward  you  for  your  constant  kind  attachment 
to  your  G." 


140  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

One  of  the  first  interests  at  Hurstmonceaux  had  been 
found  in  the  preparation  of  the  sunniest  and  pleasantest 
room  in  the  house  for  the  reception  of  Lady  Jones  during 
her  long  annual  visit — a  room  which  is  called  "  Lady  Jones's 
Chamber  "  to  this  day.  Thither  she  came  for  three  or  four 
months  every  summer,  bringing  the  little  Augustus  to  his 
brothers,  when  they  used  to  play  in  the  gardens  of  the 
"Place,"  or  ramble  about  in  the  castle  ruins  or  that  old 
deer-park.  Even  as  a  child  Augustus  was  of  a  much  gentler 
disposition  than  his  brothers,  and  more  unselfish.  If  any- 
thing was  given  to  him,  his  only  pleasure  in  possession 
seemed  to  be  that  he  had  it  to  give  to  some  one  else,  and 
"  his  conversation  was  not  like  a  child's — he  would  admire 
the  works  of  God  in  every  tree  and  weed." — "On  one  occa- 
sion, when  very  little,  he  told  his  aunt  a  lie.  It  happened 
on  a  day  when  Lord  Spencer  and  Lord  Teignmouth  were 
coming  to  dine  with  her ;  she  had  intended  that  Augustus 
should  dine  with  them,  and  he  was  greatly  delighted  at  the 
prospect  of  it,  but  in  consequence  of  what  he  had  done,  she 
ordered  him  to  stay  in  his  room  and  have  nothing  but  bread 
and  water.  His  nurse,  who  was  greatly  devoted  to  him, 
was  not  able  to  go  to  him  till  night,  when  she  took  him 
some  strawberries,  the  first  of  the  year,  with  which  at  first 
he  was  much  pleased,  but  then  asked  if  his  aunt  had  sent 
them,  and  on  being  told  '  no,'  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to 
touch  them,  saying  that  she  had  thought  him  too  wicked  to 
have  anything  that  was  good." — "Once  when  he  was  playing 
with  a  little  boy,  the  son  of  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  and 
they  could  not  keep  a  little  sledge,  with  tin  soldiers  in  it, 
steady,  he  went  and  fetched  a  silver  crucifix  and  beads  given 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX,  141 

to  him  by  his  Italian  nurse,  and  put  it  into  the  sledge,  say- 
ing, '  Here  is  something  that  will  manage  this  and  every- 
thing else  in  the  world.' " — "After  a  long  illness,  he  expressed 
his  gratitude  and  thanks  in  such  a  manner  to  those  who 
had  been  kind  to  him,  that  he  was  more  loved  than 
ever."* 

Around  Hurstmonceaux  Place  the  country,  which  is  so 
bare  near  the  castle,  becomes  luxuriantly  rich  and  wooded. 
The  house  is  large,  forming  a  massy  square  with  projecting 
semi-circular  bows  at  the  corners,  the  appearance  of  which 
(due  to  Wyatt)  certainly  produces  a  very  ugly  effect  outside, 
but  is  exceedingly  comfortable  within.  Mr.  Wilberforce, 
who  rented  it  in  1810,  thus  describes  it : — 

"I  am  in  a  corner  of  Sussex,  in  an  excellent  house, 
and  a  place  almost  as  pretty  as  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
sea  ever  is.  There  is  a  fine  old  castle  here,  built  in 
Henry  VI.'s  time,  but  in  complete  preservation  till  some 
twenty  years  ago,  and,  though  this  is  a  very  good  private 
gentleman's  habitation,  yet  when  one  sets  it  against  a 
complete  castle,  one  side  of  which  was  two  hundred  feet 
long,  and  which  was  in  the  complete  costume  of  the  age  in 
which  it  was  reared,  it  dwindles  into  as  much  insignificance 
as  one  of  the  armed  knights  of  the  middle  ages,  fully  ac- 
coutred, who  should  be  suddenly  transported  into  the 
curtailed  dimensions  of  one  of  the  box-lobby  loungers  of 
the  opera,  or  even  one  of  the  cropped  and  docked  troopers 
of  one  of  our  modern  regiments. 

"The  castle  is  in  the  park;  but,  horrendum  didu!  it  was 
pulled  down,  and  the  bare  walls  and  ivy-mantled  towers 

•  These  anecdotes  were  told  forty  years  after  by  Lady  Jones's  maid 
Hickman,  then  Mrs.  Parker. 


142  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

alone  left  standing ;  the  materials  being  applied  to  the  con- 
struction of  a  new  house,  which,  on  the  whole,  cost  twice  as 
much,  I  understand,  as  it  would  have  taken  to  make  the 
castle  habitable,  for  it  had  fallen  a  little  into  arrears.  I 
don't  know,  however,  that  we  who  inhabit  the  new  mansion 
may  not  have  made  a  good  exchange,  by  gaining  in  comfort 
what  is  lost  in  magnificence ;  for  the  old  building  was  of 
such  a  prodigious  extent,  that  it  would  have  required  the 
contents  of  almost  a  whole  colliery  to  keep  it  warm ;  and  I 
think  few  things  more  wretched  (of  the  kind,  I  mean)  than 
living  in  a  house  which  it  is  beyond  the  powers  of  the 
fortune  to  keep  in  order ;  like  a  great  body  with  a  languid 
circulation,  all  is  cold  and  comfortless."* 

Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's  life  at  Hurstmonceaux  must  have 
astonished  her  rustic  neighbours,  and  still  more  her  neigh- 
bours in  her  own  rank  of  life,  of  whom  there  were  few  with 
whom  she  cared  to  associate,  except  the  ladies  at  Ashburn- 
ham  Place,  where  the  fine  library  was  a  great  delight  to  her. 
Not  only,  when  within  the  house,  was  she  always  occupied 
in  the  deep  study  of  Greek  authors,  but  during  her  walks 
in  the  park  and  shrubberies  she  was  always  seen  dressed  in 
white,  and  she  was  always  accompanied  by  a  beautiful  tame 
white  doe,  which  used  to  walk  by  her  side,  even  when  she 
went  to  church.  Her  foreign  life  led  her  to  regard  Sunday 
merely  as  a  fete  day,  and  she  used  frequently  to  scandalize 
the  church-going  population  by  sitting  at  a  window  looking 
out  upon  the  road,  working  at  her  tambour-frame,  when 
they  were  going  to  church.  Her  impetuosity  in  liking  and 

*  Letter  to  Lord  Muncaster.  See  Wilberforce's  "Life  and  Cor- 
respondence," vol.  iii.  pp.  464,  466.  Lond.,  1838. 


THE    HARES    OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  143 

disliking  often  led  her  to  make  friends  with  persons  beneath 
her,  or  to  take  them  into  her  service  when  they  were  of  a 
cnaracter  which  rendered  her  notice  exceedingly  undesirable. 
1'he  two  women  she  took  most  notice  of  in  the  parish  were 
the  last  persons  who  ever  did  public  penance  at  Hurstmon- 
ceaux,  having  both  to  stand  in  a  white  sheet  in  the  church- 
yard for  their  "  various  offspring,"  so  that  people  said,  "  There 
are  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's  friends  doing  penance."  And  it  was 
long  remembered  with  amusement  that  when  one  of  her 
maids  was  afterwards  found  to  have  misbehaved  herself,  she 
said,  "  Poor  thing,  she  cannot  help  it ;  I  really  believe  it 
must  be  something  in  the  air  /" 

Yet  in  her  heart  she  was  of  a  most  holy  life ;  ardent  in  all 
her  feelings  and  acts,  her  whole  soul  was  constantly  poured 
out  in  prayer.  As  a  Mr.  Mitchell,  one  of  whom  she  saw 
much  at  this  time,  said  afterwards  to  her  son  Julius, 
"  She  did  truly  embrace  Christ  with  her  whole  heart."  Her 
words  were  cherished  through  life  by  her  children  as  those 
of  an  angel,  and  to  their  latest  days  the  recollection  of  the 
Four  Brothers  lingered  lovingly  over  every  incident  of  the 
early  years  spent  with  their  "  precious  mother  "  in  the  family 
home.  "  O  that  old  age  were  truly  second  childhood  !  It 
is  seldom  more  like  it  than  the  berry  is  to  the  rosebud," 
wrote  one  of  the  four  many  years  after ;  and  another  (Julius) 
who,  living  hard  by,  was  wont  to  cherish  every  recollection 
of  his  beloved  mother  in  the  scenes  where  she  had  lived, 
wrote  in  recollection  of  these  happy  days,  "  What  a  type 
of  a  happy  family  is  the  family  of  the  sun !  With  what 
order,  with  what  harmony,  with  what  blessed  peace  do  his 
children  the  planets  move  around  him,  shining  with  the 


144  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

light  which  they  drink  in  from  their  parent's  face  at  once  on 
him  and  on  one  another."* 

For  the  two  first  years  of  their  residence  at  Hurstmon- 
ceaux  the  family  circle  was  enlarged  by  one  who  made  up 
in  some  degree  for  the  literary  and  intellectual  society  they 
had  left  at  Bologna,  and  in  her  letters  to  her  valued  Aponte, 
Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  constantly  dwelt  upon  the  fortunate 
choice  she  had  been  enabled  to  make  in  appointing  Dr. 
Lehmann  as  tutor  to  her  son  Francis,  and  under  whom  he 
was  making  such  progress  as  to  be  an  astonishment  to  all 
who  knew  him  and  an  intense  delight  to  his  mother.  When 
Lehmann  returned  to  Germany  in  1802,  with  the  intention 
of  taking  a  professorship  in  the  University  of  Gottingen,  it 
was  intended  that  Francis  should  accompany  him  thither, 
that  he  might  continue  to  have  the  benefit  of  his  teaching, 
for  he  had  been  a  most  indefatigable  tutor,  in  spite  of  a 
devotion  to  his  own  studies  of  natural  history,  so  that,  as 
Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  quaintly  observes  in  one  of  her  letters,  he 
would  impart  information  to  Francis  even  while  he  was 
"  dissecting  the  brains  of  a  butterfly,  or  ascertaining  the  legs 
of  a  louse."  The  German  plan,  however,  was  abandoned, 
in  order  to  send  Francis  to  the  tutorship  of  Dr.  Brown,  an 
eminent  professor  in  the  Marischal  College  at  Aberdeen,  and 
thither  he  proceeded  in  August,  1802,  after  a  visit  to  Lord 
Palmerston  at  Edinburgh.  He  remained  at  Aberdeen  two 
years  without  returning.  Of  the  diligence  with  which  his 
days  there  were  employed  the  following  letter  to  his  mother 
will  give  an  idea : — 

*  "  Guesses  at  Truth,"  1856,  p.  554. 


THE    HARES   OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  145 

"  April  14,  1804. — To  give  an  account  of  my  day.  Before 
breakfast  I  read  Cicero's  and  Demosthenes'  orations  alter- 
nately by  myself.  From  ten  to  eleven  I  read  Tacitus,  of 
which  I  explain  five  chapters  each  lesson  to  Mr.  Siev- 
wright  at  night,  and  at  the  same  time  I  write  a  translation 
of  a  chapter  of  Livy.  From  eleven  to  twelve  I  read  books 
on  politics  and  moral  philosophy,  from  one  to  two  Dr. 
Brown  as  usual  three  times  a  week ;  from  two  to  four  I  study 
the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations,  as  a  preparation  for  my  study 
of  the  common  law ;  seven  to  eight,  Mr.  Sievwright ;  eight 
to  nine,  I  read  Homer  and  Virgil  alternately  by  myself; 
nine  to  ten,  Smythe;  ten  to  eleven  I  prepare  Smythe's 
lesson,  and  if  there  is  any  time  to  spare  I  employ  it  in  read- 
ing English  poetry,  as  even  that  has  great  use.  So  much 
till  eleven  o'clock,  when  I  undress.  I  have  given  up  going 
to  supper,  when  the  college  ended,  for  want  of  time.  Foi 
the  time  for  which  nothing  else  is  allotted,  and  on  Sundays, 
there  is  miscellaneous  and  superficial  English  and  French 
reading.  The  time  I  have  allotted  for  walking  is  from 
twelve  to  one,  but  I  seldom  employ  it  for  that  purpose. 

"  I  long  to  be  present  at  the  unpacking  of  the  fine  library 
which  has  come  from  Bologna,  and  I  envy  you  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  again  our  old  friends  the  Scanderbeg  and  the 
Judith.  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  how  you  managed 
to  hang  both  the  great  Guido  and  the  great  Guercino  in 
the  dining-room.  Then  what  is  to  become  of  the  Paul 
Veronese,  for  certainly  it  deserves  a  place  inter priores  ?" 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  FRANCIS  HARE. 

"Sept.  5,  1802. — 'Nil  mortalibus  arduum  est.'  This,  it 
is  reported,  Bonaparte  said,  when  he  ascended  the  Alps  to 
conquer  Italy.  You  have  chosen  it,  my  beloved  Francis, 
for  your  motto,  and  in  the  difficulties  you  have  at  present 
to  encounter,  to  will  is  to  do.  In  speaking  slow  you  have 

VOL..   I.  L 


146  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

only  to  conquer  an  ill  habit  of  not  pronouncing  the  finals 
distinct  You  have  not,  like  Demosthenes,  any  natural 
impediment  to  surmount,  nor,  like  Bonaparte,  to  conquer 
countries  without  arms  or  ammunition;  but  still  the  prin- 
ciple of  industry  and  attention  to  amend  in  time  a  fault 
which  would  become  a  real  prejudice  to  your  advancement 
hereafter,  is  a  great  and  material  step  towards  still  more 
important  objects. 

"  Dr.  Brown  must  have  heard,  with  the  deepest  regret,  of 
Mr.  Brand's  throwing  away  his  money  on  a  county  election. 
Perhaps  this  ill-judged  measure  at  his  first  entry  into  life 
may  destroy  many  of  those  fair  prospects  which  his  early 
virtues  gave  the  promise  of.  To  get  rid  of  a  good  fortune 
with  little  credit  and  no  honour,  there  is  no  surer  method 
than  a  contested  election,  nor  in  this  case  was  there  ever  a 
prospect  of  success.  You  know  with  what  prudence  your 
father  behaved  last  year  with  regard  to  this  county,  nor  has 
his  merit  been  less  this  year  in  withstanding  the  general 
voice  that  called  upon  him  to  oppose  our  present  member. 

"  Perhaps,  as  we  have  so  very  often  experienced  the 
favour  of  Providence,  and  the  wisest  of  us  are  so  inadequate 
to  decide  on  our  own  real  advantage,  it  may  be  among  His 
kindnesses  our  not  having  let  our  house  this  autumn ;  for  in 
the  general  opinion  war  is  but  too  likely  to  recommence, 
and  in  that  disastrous  case,  happy  are  those  who  are  living 
in  their  own  land,  and  able  to  protect  their  own  property. 
You,  my  Francis,  are  probably  born  to  live  in  a  portentous 
age.  You  inherit  the  principles  of  true  and  genuine  liberty 
from  your  ancestors.  You  have  yourself  seen  the  lament- 
able effects  of  anarchy  and  licentiousness  assuming  the  name 
of  the  true  goddess,  and  treading  down  her  altars.  And 
now,  under  the  care  of  the  pious,  wise,  and  learned  Dr. 
Brown,  you  are  imbibing  at  their  source  the  untainted  senti- 
ments of  real  patriotism  and  real  freedom ;  but,  above  all, 


THE   HARES   OF  HURSTMONCEAUX.  147 


my  Francis,  I  exhort  you  to  study  the  works  of  my  favourite 
Cicero.  Demosthenes  excels  more  in  argument  and  decla- 
mation, but  none  of  the  ancients  have  written  with  more 
purity  of  mind  and  principle  of  the  great  question  of  public 
good  and  the  duties  of  the  citizen.  Your  father  did  not 
intend  publishing  the  continuation  of  his  history  until  our 
arrival  in  France,  when  he  intended  to  revise  the  first  two 
volumes  and  publish  them  anew,  together  with  the  two 
succeeding  ones,  when  he  had  the  means  of  consulting 
some  new  authorities ;  but  should  we  remain  in  England,  I 
imagine  this  plan  must  change.  Adieu,  my  best-beloved — 
my  darling  son." 

The  History  alluded  to  in  this  letter  is  that  of  the  Hel- 
vetic Republic,  which  Mr.  Hare-Naylor  had  begun  at 
Bologna,  and  which  he  afterwards  published,  dedicated, 
"  To  the  immortal  memory  of  Charles  James  Fox,  the 
enlightened  champion  of  civil  and  religious  liberty." 

In  March,  1803,  good  old  Mrs.  Shipley  died — a  great 
loss  to  her  numerous  children  and  grandchildren.  "  She 
lived  to  a  good  old  age,  being  in  her  eighty-seventh  year," 
wrote  Lady  Jones  to  Mrs.  Parker,  "  and  enjoyed  all  her 
faculties  to  the  last,  and  resigned  her  breath  without  any 
suffering — not  a  sigh  or  groan,  but  went  off  in  a  quiet 
angelic  sleep." 

In  1803,  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor,  who  had  never  quite  given 
up  the  pursuit  of  painting,  to  which  she  had  been  so 
devoted  in  Italy,  and  who  never  ceased  lamenting  the 
destruction  of  Hurstmonceaux  Castle,  and  the  loss  it  occa- 
sioned her  children,  formed  the  design  of  leaving  them  a 
perfect  series  of  large  finished  water-colour  drawings,  repre- 
senting all  the  different  parts  of  the  castle,  interior  as  well 


148  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

as  exterior,  before  its  destruction.  This  series  of  drawings 
she  completed,  never  relaxing  her  labour  and  care  till  the 
whole  were  finished  ;  but  the  minute  application  for  so  long 
a  period  seriously  affected  her  health,  and  after  she  had 
complained  for  some  time  of  pain  in  her  eyes,  and  an 
eminent  oculist  had  been  consulted,  it  was  found  that 
disease  of  the  optic  nerve  had  begun,  which  obliged  her  to 
lay  aside  at  once  all  her  usual  employments,  and  which 
ended,  two  years  later,  when  she  was  only  in  her  forty- 
eighth  year,  in  total  blindness,  the  calamity  which  five 
years  before  she  had  spoken  of  to  Lady  Jones  as  the  only 
misfortune  utterly  unendurable.  It  was  remembered  at 
Hurstmonceaux  how  exceedingly  tall  and  thin  she  was  at 
this  time,  and  that  she  used  to  knock  her  elbows  together 
behind  her  back  till  they  clicked  ! 

In  January,  1804,  Julius  and  Marcus  were  sent  together 
to  Tunbridge  School,  which  was  then  under  the  care  of  Dr. 
Vicesimus  Knox ;  but  Julius  soon  fell  ill  there,  and  as  his 
symptoms  were  of  a  consumptive  tendency,  he  was  removed, 
10  the  great  grief  of  his  little  brother,  who  exclaimed,  "  If 
J  ule  go  away,  Marcus  pisen  hisself."  It  was  decided  that 
Julius  should  accompany  his  parents  to  the  Continent,  for  it 
was  now  absolutely  necessary  that  they  should  go  abroad, 
as  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's  health  was  failing  so  rapidly,  that 
foreign  air  was  looked  upon  as  a  last  resort.  They  left 
England  early  in  August,  1804,  and  travelled  first  to 
Vienna,  returning  by  slow  stages  to  Weimar,  where  they 
spent  the  following  winter.  Francis  in  the  meantime  was 
sent  to  another  private  tutor's,  Mr.  Michells,  at  Buckland, 
neai  Cambridge,  where  he  pursued  his  studies  with  the 


THE    HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX. 


utmost  ardour.  Augustus  remained  under  the  care  of  Lady 
Jones,  who  sent  him  at  ten  years  old  to  Mr.  Stretch's  school 
at  Twyford.  where  he  used  to  play  with  his  little  companions 
at  "  the  siege  of  Copenhagen,"  amongst  the  great  tomb 
stones  in  the  churchyard.  Hence  he  was  removed  to 
Winchester  in  1804.  His  father  at  this  time  writes  to  him, 
"  Your  letters  have  given  the  greatest  pleasure  both  to  your 
mother  and  me,  and  the  affectionate  manner  in  which  you 
speak  of  her  illness  has  quite  delighted  her." 

It  is  to  this  winter  of  1804 — 5,  spent  at  Weimar,  that 
Julius  owed  his  first  acquaintance  with  and  interest  in 
German  literature.  There,  the  great  names  of  Goethe, 
Wieland,  Herder,  and  Schiller  became  to  him  familiar 
household  words.  The  extraordinary  gifts  of  his  accom- 
plished mother  gathered  around  her,  even  in  these  days  of 
sickness,  all  that  was  most  intellectual  in  that  most  intel- 
lectual of  German  cities.  And  the  good  duchess  who 
honoured  the  great  men  of  her  city,  as  she  was  honoured 
by  them,  was  the  kind  friend  whose  presence  daily  cheered 
the  darkened  chamber  of  the  blind  lady,  and  whose  sweet 
ministrations  were  constantly  afforded  in  the  long  hours  of 
suffering  from  which  she  was  now  scarcely  ever  free.  It 
was  as  he  left  Weimar,  in  May,  1805,  that  Julius  Hare  first 
saw  the  Wartburg,  the  scene  of  Luther's  nominal  imprison- 
ment ;  and  there,  as  he  used  playfully  to  say  in  after  years, 
he  "  first  learnt  to  throw  inkstands  at  the  devil." 

During  the  year  spent  at  Weimar,  Mr.  Hare-Naylor  wrote 
the  novel — the  very  dull  novel — of  "Theodore,  or  the 
Enthusiast,"  which  was  dedicated,  "  To  Her  Serene  High- 
ness the  reigning  Duchess  of  Saxe-Weinmr,  in  token  of 


150  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

gratitude,  admiration,  and  esteem."  Flaxman,  who,  with 
his  sister  (who  was  governess  to  little  Anna),  accompanied 
the  Hare-Naylors  to  Weimar,  made  a  series  of  beautiful 
little  illustrations  for  this  novel,  which  have  never  been 
engraved. 

MRS.  HARE-NAYLOR  to  LADY  JONES. 

"  Weimar,  Nov.  12,  1804. — The  calamity  I  have  so  long 
foreseen  and  dreaded,  my  dearest  sister,  is  at  length  fallen 
upon  me  :  it  is  now  two  whole  days  since  I  have  distinguished 
any  visible  object.  The  tranquillity  of  despair,  dreadful  as  it 
is,  is  nothing  compared  with  what  I  have  suffered  during  the 
last  twenty  months,  in  a  fluctuation  between  hope  and  fear. 
You,  my  beloved  sister,  who  know  my  ideas  and  sensations 
on  every  subject,  will  picture  to  yourself  all  I  might  say, 
and  I  shall  have  not  less  of  your  compassion  than  your 
love.  It  is  towards  you  that  I  look  for  all  I  can  hope  of 
comfort  either  for  myself  or  my  poor  dear  children.  Indeed, 
it  is  amongst  my  heaviest  afflictions,  the  feeling  myself 
incapable  of  the  duties  of  wife  and  mother :  this  admits  of 
but  one  consolation,  that  though  David  was  not  permitted 
to  build  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  yet  it  was  accepted,  for  he 
had  it  in  his  heart. 

"  Hare  is  very  much  at  court,  but  always  most  kind  and 
attentive  to  me.  It  was  only  on  the  gth  that  the  hereditary 
prince  brought  home  his  bride,  a  Grand  Duchess  of  Russia, 
since  which  there  have  been  nothing  but  dinners  and 
festivals,  though  Hare  prefers  the  quiet  society  he  met  at 
Prince  Clary's,  at  Teplitz,  to  all  the  splendour  and  mag- 
nificence displayed  on  this  occasion.  The  grand  duchess's 
wardrobe  arrived  in  eighty  waggons,  and  her  profusion  of 
jewels  is  such  that  she  could  change  the  set  every  day  for  a 
twelvemonth.  Julius  has  learned  a  great  deal  of  German, 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  151 

but  is  too  shy  to  speak May  God  in   his  mercy 

preserve  you  to  support  and  assist  your  poor  blind 

"  G.  H.  N." 

In  the  summer  of  1805  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's  longing 
desire  for  the  presence  of  her  son  Francis,  caused  him  to  be 
summoned  to  her  side,  as  her  health  was  daily  becoming 
worse.  She  rallied,  however,  sufficiently  to  carry  out  her 
strong  wish  of  revisiting  Switzerland — the  land  of  liberty 
whence  she  had  drawn  such  ardent  aspirations  in  the  days 
of  health  and  happiness,  and  when  the  Hurstmonceaux  life, 
now  closed  for  ever,  was  just  opening  before  her.  They 
moved  first  to  Bruckenau,  and  afterwards  to  Lausanne. 
Hence  she  sent  to  her  cousin,  the  Dowager  Lady  Spencer, 
her  verses 

ON  BLINDNESS. 

"  He  chastens  whom  He  loves  ! " — 'Tis  thus  we  read 
In  that  blest  book  from  whence  all  truths  proceed. 
While  then  his  mercies  humbly  we  implore, 
'Tis  ours  to  bow,  submit,  and  still  adore, 
Content,  in  awe,  to  venerate  his  plan, 
When  laid  too  deep  for  mortal  eyes  to  scan. 

Our  keenest  sufferings  to  some  purpose  tend, 
To  calm  our  passions,  or  our  hearts  to  mend  ; 
To  lift  our  thoughts  from  earth  to  heaven  above, 
And  teach  frail  man  to  trust  his  Maker's  love. 

In  all  our  trials  subject  to  his  will, 
God  blends  some  good  to  counterpoise  the  ill ; 
And  when  his  wrath  divine  inflicts  a  woe, 
His  love  paternal  mitigates  the  blow : 
E'en  in  the  heaviest  loss,  the  loss  of  sight, 
That  love  can  fill  the  mind  with  inward  light, 
Bestow  on  other  organs  ampler  powers, 
And  bless  our  night,  like  nature's,  with  its  flowen. 


152  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


No  more  that  orb  whose  vivifying  ray 
Gives  life  and  vigour  to  returning  day, 
Gladdens  my  eyes  with  its  resplendent  flats  e, 
Yet  still  its  warmth  revives  my  drooping  frame. 
No  more,  to  me,  the  moon  reflects  her  light, 
Nor  glittering  planets  meet  the  unconscious  sight, 
Yet  o'er  my  senses  steals  the  calm  serene, 
And  all  within  is  tranquil  as  the  scene. 

In  vain  would  nature  too  her  charms  conceal, 
Her  treasures,  though  unseen,  I  see,  I  feel. 
The  torrent,  dashing  from  the  mountain  near, 
Breaks  in  rude  cadence  on  the  astonished  ear ; 
While  the  clear  rivulet  that  gently  flows 
With  lulling  murmurs  soothes  me  to  repose. 
Ofttimes  I  seek  the  grove  or  shady  bower 
When  contemplation  claims  the  sober  hour ; 
Oft  the  pure  fragrance  of  the  plants  inhale, 
And  tread  the  flowery  mead,  or  spicy  vale, 
The  quickened  scent  delighting  to  explore 
A  thousand  sweets,  unmark'd,  unknown  before. 

E'en  though  the  landscape  flies  the  clouded  eye, 
Imagination  can  her  tints  supply, 
O'er  the  rude  scenery  cast  a  brighter  hue, 
And  bring  a  new  creation  to  my  view. 
The  pine  frowns  darkly  o'er  the  ivied  cell, 
The  ruin  proudly  nods,  the  torrents  swell ; 
Above  the  wooded  vale  steep  Alps  arise, 
And  threat  with  snow-clad  peaks  their  kindred  skies. 
Thus  as  rich  fancy  paints  with  varying  grace 
Bold  nature's  grand  majestic  forms  we  trace, 
Ideal  beauties  decorate  the  scene, 
No  clouds  obscure  it,  and  no  specks  are  seen. 

Oft  too  shall  Harmony's  celestial  strain 
Soothe  to  a  soft  forgetfulness  of  pain, 
Lull  in  seraphic  dreams  our  mental  powers, 

And  steal  from  adverse  fate  some  blissful  hours. 

. 

But  chief  the  social  pleasures  are  designed 
To  charm  the  ear,  and  fascinate  the  mind. 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  153 

Satire's  keen  edge,  whose  point  e'en  vice  can  awe, 
Seductive  wit  restrain'd  by  moral  law, 
The  patriot  thought  in  manly  language  drest, 
The  tale  well  told,  the  laugh-creating  jest, 
The  classic  page  (deep  mine  of  treasured  ore 
By  turns  to  criticize,  by  turns  explore) — 
These,  the  pure  sources  of  convivial  mirth, 
Expand  our  talents,  and  give  genius  birth, 
The  soul's  appropriate  energies  reveal, 
Nor  need  the  eye,  to  make  the  bosom  feel. 

Still  we  enjoy  those  dear  delightful  ties, 
On  which  the  firmest  prop  of  life  relies. 
When  the  fond  husband  or  the  child  draws  near 
The  well-known  step  sounds  grateful  to  the  ear : 
A  son's  sweet  voice  can  vibrate  to  the  heart, 
And  love's  soft  touch  the  thrill  of  joy  impart: 
And  memory  now  restores  to  mental  sight 
Their  long-loved  features  lost  in  shades  of  night, 
Now  joys  with  thoughtful  gratitude  to  blend 
In  one  dear  form  the  sister  and  the  friend. 

Friendship  too  opens  wide  her  treasured  store, 
And  as  we  grow  the  poorer,  gives  the  more. 
Her  tender  sympathy  is  ever  nigh, 
Nor  lets  a  wish  escape  its  watchful  eye  ; 
While,  as  the  sun  revives  with  genial  heat, 
The  drooping  flowers  on  which  the  tempests  beat, 
How  sweet  compassion  cheers  our  clouded  days, 
And  loves  in  us  the  feelings  that  we  raise. 

Wisdom  presides  o'er  God's  omniscient  plan — 
But  Faith  and  Hope  are  given  for  guides  to  man. 
While  Hope  consoles  us  in  this  vale  of  tears, 
Faith  here  prepares  us  for  the  heavenly  spheres, 
And  when  our  mortal  part  is  wrapt  in  night, 
Uplifts  our  spirits  to  the  throne  of  light. 

During  the  illness  at  Lausanne,  Francis  was  of  the 
greatest  possible  assistance  to  his  parents.  He  entirely 
undertook  for  the  time  the  education  of  his  brother  Julius, 


154  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

a  task  which  he  afterwards  in  some  degree  continued  by 
writing  a  series  of  essays  on  different  literary  subjects  for 
the  benefit  of  his  brother.  "Francis  Hare,  who  gave 
Julius  his  first  initiation  into  Greek,  was  also  an  excellent 
German  scholar,  and  no  doubt  used  his  knowledge  of  that, 
as  of  other  modern  literature,  to  make  his  lessons  more 
lively." 

As  Mrs.  Hare-Naylor  felt  her  last  moments  approaching, 
she  solemnly  and  urgently  in  writing  commended  her  five 
children  to  her  sister's  care,  but  especially  her  little  daughter 
Anna.  She  lingered  till  the  late  spring.  On  Good  Friday, 
she  said  to  Coleman,  her  faithful  maid,  "  The  day  after  to- 
morrow will  be  that  of  our  Saviour's  resurrection,  and  will 
possibly  be  the  last  of  my  life ; "  adding,  "  If  I  meet  your 
mother  in  another  world,  I  will  tell  her  how  kind  and  atten- 
tive you  have  been  to  me."  And  so  it  was.  Having  taken 
her  husband's  hand  and  kissed  it,  on  the  morning  of  Easter 
Sunday,  the  6th  of  April,  1806,  she  fell  into  a  sweet  sleep, 
from  which  she  never  awakened,  "giving  up  her  soul  to 
Him,  who,  as  on  that  day,  overcame  death."* 

Just  one  week  before  her  cousin,  died  in  England,  on 
March  30,  1806,  Georgiana,  the  beautiful  Duchess  of 
Devonshire. 


At  the  time  of  his  wife's  death,  Mr.  Hare-Naylor,  being 
then  in  his  fifty-second  year,  was  still  very  handsome,  but 
exceedingly  reserved  and  cold  in  manner.  He  could  not 
bear  to  return  to  Hurstmonceaux,  where,  as  he  wrote  to 

*  Epitaph  at  Hurstmonceaux. 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMONCEAUX.  155 

Lady  Jones,  every  flower  and  every  plant  recalled  the  recol- 
lection of  happy  moments  "  past  with  his  lost  Georgiana." 
His  debts  were  numerous  and  his  children  many,  and  in  the 
following  year  he  sold  the  estate  of  his  ancestors,  a  step 
which  all  his  descendants  have  never  ceased  to  deplore. 

Without  failing  in  the  respect  due  to  their  father,  it  was 
to  Lady  Jones  and  to  their  Shipley  relations  that  his  chil- 
dren henceforward  always  turned  for  advice,  for  comfort, 
and  affection,  and  in  the  house  of  this  beloved  aunt  they 
found  the  only  home  they  knew  from  this  time.  "  My 
dearest  Georgiana,"  wrote  Lady  Jones,  on  hearing  of  her 
loss,  "  if  she  knows  in  the  realms  of  bliss  she  assuredly 
inhabits  what  passes  in  the  world,  shall  ever  see  that  I 
will  exert  my  feeble  endeavours  to  supply  her  loss,  as  long 
as  life  and  health  permit  me  to  do  so.  My  dear  little  Anna 
especially  I  shall  receive  with  open  arms."  And  henceforth 
little  Anna  always  lived  with  her,  recognised  before  the 
world  as  her  adopted  daughter ;  Augustus  was  educated  at 
her  expense,  and  passed  his  holidays  with  her,  and  her  care 
and  anxiety  for  his  welfare  proved  that  she  considered  him 
little  less  her  child  than  Anna ;  Francis  and  Julius  con- 
sulted her  and  looked  up  to  her  on  all  points,  finding  in  her 
"  a  second  mother,  a  monitress  wise  and  loving,  both  in 
encouragement  and  reproof."  "To  the  reverence  which 
Julius  entertained  for  Lady  Jones,"  wrote  one  who  knew 
him  well  in  later  days,  "may  be  ascribed  much  of  the 
nobleness  and  purity  of  character,  the  chivalrous  respect  for 
womanhood  which  distinguished  his  whole  life." 

The  country  home  of  Lady  Jones  was  at  Worting,  a  place 
which  she  had  bought,  near  Basingstoke,  a  comfortable  old- 


156  MEMORIALS   OF   A  QUIET   LIFE. 

fashioned  red  brick  house,  with  some  fine  trees  near  it,  but 
the  surrounding  country  flat,  open,  and  barren  to  the  last 
degree.  For  this  very  reason  had  Lady  Jones  chosen  it — 
she  had  been  so  relaxed  by  her  long  residence  in  India,  she 
said,  that  she  wished  for  the  most  bracing  and  exposed 
situation  it  was  possible  to  discover. 

In  March,  1813,  Lady  Jones  fetched  little  Anna  home 
very  unwell  from  her  school  at  Chiswick,  and  though  she 
was  nursed  by  her  aunt  with  almost  more  than  maternal 
devotion,  she  sunk  at  the  end  of  a  week.  Lady  Jones 
never  could  bear  her  to  be  mentioned  afterwards.  After 
her  own  death  a  small  parcel  with  a  black  edge  was  found 
in  her  writing-case,  marked  "Memorandums,  Helas!"  con- 
taining the  medical  account  of  her  illness,  the  newspaper 
notice  of  her  death,  and  a  little  packet  inscribed,  "  Triste 
et  Chere,"  enclosing  the  earliest  primrose  of  that  year's 
spring,  on  which  Lady  Jones  had  written,  "  The  sweet  angel 
brought  me  this  little  nosegay,  Wednesday,  i;th  March. 
On  Wednesday,  24th,  she  herself  had  faded,  drooped,  and 
ceased  to  breathe."  In  the  same  parcel  is  preserved  this 
fragment  of  a  letter  from  old  Lady  Spencer  : — 

"'We  now' call  it  death  to  leave  this  world,  but  were  we 
once  out  of  it,  and  enstated  into  the  happiness  of  the  next, 
we  should  think  it  were  dying  indeed  to  come  into  it  again.' 
So  says  Sherlock,  whom  I  was  reading  when  you  sent  to  me 
Sunday  evening.  Had  dear  little  Anna's  life  been  prolonged, 
it  would  have  been  a  course  of  suffering  to  herself  and 
anxiety  to  you.  Now  you  can  feel  no  anxiety  on  her 
account,  for  I  think  it  was  quite  remarkable  the  little  traits 
of  amiable  feelings  that  appeared  during  her  illness." 


THE   HARES   OF   HURSTMOXCEAUX.  157 

Augustus  Hare  wrote  to  Lady  Jones  : — 

"  Amid  abundant  cause  for  sorrow,  it  must  be  some  con- 
solation to  you  to  reflect  that  my  sister  is  gone  to  that 
mother  who  committed  her  to  your  care,  and  that  she  will 
have  nothing  to  recount  but  instances  of  your  countless 
goodness.  You  have  exchanged  for  a  form  that  prayed 
for  you  on  earth,  a  spirit  that  is  praying  for  you  in 
heaven.  All  the  improper  habits  that  you  have  ever 
checked  in  her,  all  the  good  principles  you  have  ever  in- 
stilled into  her,  all  the  religious  precepts  you  ever  taught 
her,  are,  and  will  be,  day  and  night  rehearsed  in  the  ears  of 
our  merciful  Judge,  and  if  they  are  blessed  who  give  food 
here,  what  shall  be  done  to  them  who  minister  spiritual 
sustenance,  who  have  conducted  the  steps  of  others  to  the 
well  of  everlasting  life,  who  have  exerted  themselves  to 
redeem  a  soul  from  the  bondage  of  sin  and  Satan  ?  Indeed, 
when  I  think  of  these  things,  I  feel  I  would  not  disbelieve 
a  future  state  for  the  universe.  Then,  indeed,  would  our 
fate  be  wretched,  and  what  comfort  could  we  possibly  derive 
from  the  never-ending  sleep  of  my  dear  sister,  since  we 
never  should  see  her  again  ?  Even  in  this  world  the  care 
you  have  lavished  upon  her  will  not  be  in  vain.  The 
recollection  of  it  is  lodged  in  the  bosom  of  her  surviving 
brothers,  and  will,  I  trust,  produce  a  harvest  of  affectionate 
and  grateful  exertion." 

In  1807  Mr.  Hare-Naylor  had  contracted  a  second 
marriage  with  a  connection  of  his  first  wife,  the  widow  oi 
Colonel  Mealey,  by  whom  he  had  become  the  father  of 
three  children,  Georgiana,  born  Nov.  IT,  1809;  Gustavus, 
born  Sept.  15,  1811;  and  Reginald,  born  Dec.  29,  1812. 
In  1814  he  went  abroad  with  his  second  family,  and  died 


158  MEMORIALS   OF  A  QUIET  LIFE. 

at  Tours  on  the  i6th  of  April,  1815,  after  a  lingering  illness, 
in  which  his  son  Augustus  shared  the  fatigues  and  anxieties 
of  his  stepmother.  His  remains  were  removed  to  Hurst- 
monceaux,  where  he  is  buried  beneath  the  altar  of  the 
parish  church. 


IV. 

AUGUSTUS  AND  JULIUS  HARE. 

"  The  great  secret  of  spiritual  perfection  is  expressed  in  the 
words  of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola,  '  Hoc  vult  Deus.'  God  wishes 
me  to  stand  in  this  post,  to  fulfil  this  duty,  to  suffer  this  disease, 
to  be  afflicted  with  this  calamity,  this  contempt,  this  vexation. 
God  wishes  this,  whatever  the  world  and  self-love  may  dictate. 
hoc  vult  Deus.  His  will  is  my  law." — Broadstone  of  Honour* 

"  "DIOGRAPHIES  are  wholesome  and  nourishing  reading 
in  proportion  as  they  approach  the  character  of  auto- 
biography, when  they  are  written  by  those  who  loved  or  were 
familiar  with  their  subjects — who  had  an  eye  for  the  tokens  of 
individual  character,  and  could  pick  up  the  words  as  they 
dropped  from  loving  lips."  Thus,  in  middle  life,  wrote 
Julius  Hare,  the  younger  of  the  two  authors  of  the  "  Guesses 
at  Truth,"  and  thus,  in  following  the  footprints  of  his  life 
and  that  of  his  brother  Augustus,  the  truest  picture  is  that 
which  can  be  drawn  from  their  own  letters  or  thoughts, 
from  the  recollection  of  their  surviving  relations  and  friends, 
or  from  the  reminiscences  of  the  poor  who  loved  them  in 
solitary  Little  Alton  amid  the  Wiltshire  Downs,  or  among 
the  leafy  lanes  of  Hurstmonceaux. 

The  chief  influence  in  the  youth  of  both  brothers  was 
that  of  their  aunt,  Lady  Jones,  whose  house  was  their  home, 


160  MEMORIALS   OF  A  QUIET  LIFE, 

and  who  generously  made  herself  responsible  for  their 
education.  Unlike  their  own  mother,  of  whose  gentle 
loving-kindness  her  four  sons  retained  an  equal  recollection, 
Lady  Jones  chiefly  showed  her  affection  for  her  nephews  by 
the  severity  with  which  she  corrected  their  faults,  while  for 
herself  she  exacted  respect  rather  than  love,  and  had  no 
sympathy  with  any  demonstration  of  affection.  Her  nephews, 
though  devoted  to  her  from  motives  of  gratitude,  never 
ventured  to  be  familiar  with  her,  and  Augustus  especially 
suffered  in  after  life  from  the  want  of  mutual  confidence 
which  was  thus  engendered.  In  society  Lady  Jones  could 
be  exceedingly  pleasant  and  agreeable.  Miss  Berry,  who 
knew  her  well,  always  spoke  of  her  as  "  that  most  perfect 
gentlewoman."  She  was  very  quick  in  her  movements,  old- 
fashioned  and  peculiar  in  dress,  short  in  person,  and  she 
had  sharp,  piercing  eyes. 

Lady  Jones  sent  Augustus  Hare  to  Winchester  as  a 
Commoner  at  the  beginning  of  the  short  half-year,  after  the 
summer  holidays  of  1804:  he  was  placed  at  once  in  the 
middle  division  of  the  Fifth  Form.  Archdeacon  Randall, 
who  followed  him  to  Winchester  in  October  of  the  same 
year,  thus  describes  his  personal  appearance  at  that  time : 
— "  Hare  was  then,  as  aftenvards,  tall,  thin,  and  delicate- 
looking,  and  his  dress  peculiar,  varying  from  that  of  other 
boys — much  such  as  might  have  been  supposed  to  have  had 
its  cut  and  colour  selected  by  a  lady  who,  though  not  an 
old  maid,  was  a  widow,  and  not  much  conversant  with  the 
habiliments  and  habits  of  boys  in  general.  He  was,  how- 
ever, even  then  an  object  of  general  interest  in  the  school. 
There  was  a  near  race  between  Hare  and  Boscawen 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  i6t 

(younger  son  of  the  then  Lord  Falmouth),  for  one  of 
the  highest  p'aces  in  the  Part,  and  as  the  half-year  drew 
to  its  close,  the  marks  that  they  daily  obtained  in  the 
Classicus  Paper  were  eagerly  watched  by  their  respective 
friends.  Of  course,  the  public  wishes  were  divided,  but 
I  think  if  the  precedence  had  been  settled  by  votes, 
Hare  would  have  had  it,  perhaps  for  the  very  reason  that 
he  was  in  person  such  as  I  have  described  him,  young,  and 
looking  too  slight  for  a  struggle  of  hard  work.  This  carried 
him  through  a  great  deal,  for  though  he  had  peculiarities  of 
voice  and  manner  that  were  often  laughed  at,  I  do  not  think 
he  ever  underwent  any  unkind  treatment,  but  was  always 
regarded  as  a  tender  plant  that  ought  to  be  gently  handled. 
He  was  successful  in  this  contest,  which  was  a  happy  thing 
for  him,  as  it  insured  his  being  put  up  into  the  senior  part 
of  the  Fifth  before  the  great  struggle  of  the  half-year,  and 
'  the  standing-up  week '  at  the  end  of  it,  the  preparation  for 
which  would  probably  have  tried  his  strength  rather  too 
severely." 

Augustus  went  into  college  at  Election,  1806,  which  was 
a  fortunate  time;  for  he  had  got  up  so  high  in  the  school  as 
a  Commoner,  that  he  came  into  college  as  a  Prefect,  and, 
consequently,  had  no  fagging  to  undergo,  and  the  life  of  a 
college  Prsefect  was  as  comfortable  as  it  is  possible  for  a 
school-boy  life  to  be.  Randall  became  a  Prefect  at  Elec- 
tion, 1807,  and  from  that  time  began  an  intimacy  with 
Augustus.  "  We  were  both  of  us  thoughtful  and  imagina- 
tive," writes  Archdeacon  Randall,  "great  politicians,  and 
full  of  speculative  plans  for  the  improvement  of  the  republic 
in  which  we  lived,  and  the  constitution  of  which  in  the  main 

VOL.  I.  M 


1 62  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

we  much  approved  and  admired,  though  we  were  sensible 
of  blemishes  which  we  longed  to  remove.  We  both  thought, 
as  I  believe  almost  every  public  school-man  that  has  seriously 
considered  the  subject  does  think,  that  the  authority  of  the 
Prefects  and  their  responsibility  for  the  order  and  character 
of  the  school,  and  as  a  correlative  and  compensation  for 
this,  their  power  over  their  inferiors,  and  right  to  command 
their  services,  ought  to  be  maintained ;  but  we  also  per- 
ceived the  many  occasional  abuses  of  this  power.  The 
problem  was,  how  to  repress  these  without  obliging  the 
oppressed  junior  to  bring  his  complaint  before  the  masters, 
which  was  always  an  invidious  proceeding,  and  one  in 
which  the  masters  could  rarely  get  to  the  bottom  of  a  case, 
so  as  to  do  real  justice  between  the  parties.  The  public 
opinion  of  the  school,  and  especially  the  public  opinion  of 
the  general  body  of  the  Praefects,  was  always  against  a 
tyrannical  Praefect ;  but  an  ill-conditioned  Prasfect,  much 
like  an  ill-conditioned  great-landlord,  or  manufacturer,  or 
ship  captain,  or  other  man  possessed  of  power,  did  not  care 
about  public  opinion  ;  and  the  question  was,  how  to  bring  it 
to  bear  upon  him  in  some  way  so  that  he  should  feel  the 
weight  of  it.  For  this  purpose  we  devised  a  parliament, 
and  I  am  sure  no  constitution-mongers  in  the  world  ever 
set  about  their  work  with  more  earnestness  and  affection 
than  we  did.  We  knew  it  could  never  be  brought  into 
practical  operation,  at  any  rate  in  our  day,  but  it  was  such  a 
pleasure  to  contemplate  it  as  a  thing  possible.  What 
delightful  talks  we  had  about  it !  How  we  returned  to  the 
subject  again  and  again  !  How  we  discussed  details ! 
How  we  canvassed  and  obviated  objections  !  How  we 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS   HARE.  163 


settled  the  place  of  meeting  and  all  the  form  and  order  of 
proceedings !  It  must  be  confessed  that  our  undertaking 
was  not  an  easy  one.  The  republic  with  which  we  had  to 
deal  contained  in  it  eighteen  separate  authorities,  each  of 
them  absolute  over  all  the  subjects,  who  were  in  number  only 
fifty-two,  and  each  of  the  fifty-two  subject  to  each  of  the 
eighteen,  and  bound  to  serve  that  one  of  the  eighteen  that 
first  required  his  service.  This  was  the  constitution,  upon 
which  we  did  not  presume  to  think  of  infringing.  I  daresay 
you  will  think  it  odd  that  at  the  distance  of  more  than  half 
a  century  I  should  go  back  to  this  subject  as  the  point  of 
interest  that  I  specially  remember  of  my  intercourse  with 
Hare.  But  though  it  looks  like  playing  with  straws,  it 
shows  the  bias  of  the  mind.  To  be  in  Parliament  was,  all 
through  his  young  days,  the  thing  for  which  he  longed." 

Weak  health  and  a  naturally  indolent  disposition  pre- 
vented the  school  career  of  Augustus  Hare  from  being  as 
brilliant  as  that  of  his  brother  Julius,  and  his  frequently 
missing  the  prizes  he  tried  for,  brought  down  angry  letters 
from  his  relations,  whom  he  more  seriously  offended  in  the 
autumn  of  1808  by  taking  part  in  a  rebellion  raised  by  the 
Winchester  Praefects  against  Dr.  Goddard  for  his  making  a 
Saint's  Day  into  a  School  Day,  without  their  consent.  His 
account  of  this  scrape  to  Lady  Jones  is  so  candid  and  open 
as  to  seem  deserving  of  insertion. 

"Nov.  21,  1808. — I  suspect,  my  dear  aunt,  from  your 
long  silence,  that  you  are  very  angry  with  me ;  indeed  you 
have,  I  am  grieved  to  say,  more  reason  for  this  than  you 
perhaps  imagine.  However,  before  I  begin  my  narrative, 
permit  me  to  assure  vou  that  with  a  new  vear  I  intend  if 


164  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

possible,  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf.  I  say  if  possible,  because 
after  the  many  assurances  I  have  given  you  that  I  intended 
to  throw  off  idleness,  from  the  time  I  was  eight  years  old,  I 
am  almost  afraid  to  make  another  resolution.  I  have  not, 
during  this  half-year,  been  content  with  doing  no  good,  but 
I  have  done  harm :  I  consented,  fool  that  I  was,  to  join  in 
an  act  of  resistance  to  the  authority  of  the  masters,  and  when 
the  names  of  the  insurgents  were  given  up,  mine  was  at  the 
top.  The  circumstances  of  the  case  were  these.  It  has 
always  been  customary  to  ask  the  Praefects  whether  they  had 
any  objection  to  have  a  Saint's  Day  a  School  Day.  Hence 
arose  a  supposition  that  we  had  by  the  statutes  a  right  to  a 
holiday  on  a  Saint's  Day.  Goddard  infringed  that  supposed 
right ;  we  remonstrated,  he  persisted,  and  it  was  proposed 
that  the  Praefects  should  exert  their  authority  over  the  in- 
feriors, and  keep  them  out  of  school.  I  was  angry  with 
Goddard,  and  ashamed,  stupidly  ashamed,  of  differing  from 
my  schoolfellows.  I  asked  if  the  other  Praefects  consented 
to  this  step,  I  was  answered  '  Yes.'  '  Then  so  do  I,'  was  my 
answer.  I  afterwards  found  that  all  the  Praefects  were  so 
far  from  agreeing  in  the  step,  that  there  were  but  eight 
besides  myself  who  consented  out  of  seventeen,  and  they 
were  chiefly  junior  Praefects.  I  immediately  hurried  down 
into  our  playground  where  the  insurgents  were,  and  deter- 
mined, as  all  the  Praefects  were  not  unanimous,  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  business.  Just  at  that  moment 
Gabell  came  into  school,  my  retreat  was  cut  off,  and  I  con- 
tinued one  amongst  the  other  fools.  We,  however,  in  ten 
minutes  all  came  to  our  senses,  and  returned  into  school, 
and  upon  making  our  submission,  have  all  been  pardoned, 
and  an  act  of  amnesty  has  been  passed.  But  the  masters 
cannot  look  upon  us  in  future  with  any  confidence ;  they 
cannot  entrust  us  with  any  offices.  This,  however,  is  a 
punishment  light  in  comparison  of  what  I  ought  to  expect. 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS   HARE.  165 


This  account  must  give  you  a  great  deal  of  uneasiness. 
Endeavour,  however,  I  beg  of  you,  to  pardon  it.  Goddard 
has  already  done  so." 

After  receiving  Lady  Jones's  answer  to  this,  which  was 
milder  than  he  expected,  Augustus  Hare  wrote : — 

"Nov.  29,  1808. — In  your  letter  you  neither  said  noi 
threatened  anything,  which  I  did  not  deserve.  It  was  all 
true,  as  was  a  great  deal  more  which  you  might  have  added 
if  you  had  determined  to  punish  me  with  the  greatest 
severity.  You  might  have  added  that  for  the  last  ten  years 
and  a  half  I  have  been  a  plague  to  you ;  that  you  have  ex- 
pended hundreds  of  pounds  upon  me ;  that  I  have  been  far 
from  improving,  as  I  ought  to  have  done,  the  advantages  I 
have  had ;  that  in  return  for  all  your  kindness  I  have  never 
conquered  my  natural  indolence.  There  is  only  one  thing 
you  could  not  have  added,  that  I  have  not  loved  you  as 
much  as  my  other  brothers  would.  I  wait  with  submission 
and  anxiety  for  your  final  decision  concerning  my  punish- 
ment." 

In  the  beginning  of  1810  Dr.  Goddard  thus  wrote  to  an- 
nounce to  Lady  Jones  a  vacancy  at  New  College,  to  which 
Augustus  was  elected  in  the  following  summer : — 

"  Your  nephew  is  a  young  man  for  whom  I  have  always 
entertained  a  high  regard,  and  I  am  therefore  happy  in  any- 
thing that  bids  fair  to  promote  his  welfare.  There  was  a 
time,  when  he  appeared  not  to  be  going  on  so  well  as  I 
could  wish ;  I  was  then  unwilling  either  to  disturb  your 
mind  or  to  disguise  the  truth,  and  therefore  thought  it  most 
prudent  to  hold  my  tongue,  unless  a  communication  should 
appear  absolutely  necessary,  which  I  flattered  myself  it 


1 66  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET  LIFE. 

would  not  be,  for  as  he  possesses  a  good  heart  and  a  good 
understanding,  I  gave  him  credit  for  recovering  his  senses, 
which  were  warped  a  little  by  an  early  elevation  to  a  high 
situation.  Experience  has  proved  that  I  was  right;  for 
more  than  a  year  past  he  has  gradually  been  recovering  my 
esteem,  which  I  assure  you  he  now  possesses  as  fully  as 
ever." 


In  1806  Julius  had  been  sent  to  the  Charter-house  (then 
under  the  guidance  of  Dr.  Raine),  where  he  soon  made 
rapid  progress.  Among  his  companions  there,  were  Thirl- 
wall  and  Grote,  the  future  historians  of  Greece ;  Wad- 
dington,  afterwards  Dean  of  Durham ;  Sir  William  Norris, 
and  Sir  Henry  Havelock.  The  two  last  especially  were 
united  with  Julius  Hare  in  a  school  friendship  which  lasted 
through  life.  Havelock  was  always  called  Phloss  by  the 
others,  a  name  intended  as  short  for  philosopher.  During 
his  time  at  the  Charter-house,  Julius  received  constant 
extra  assistance  in  his  studies  from  Francis,  his  "kindest 
brother,"  as  he  always  called  him,  to  whom  he  sent  his 
verses  for  inspection  before  they  were  shown  up.  Francis 
always  loved  Julius  the  best  of  his  brothers,  though 
the  whole  four  were  united  almost  to  a  proverb — "  The 
most  brotherly  of  brothers,"  Landor  used  to  call  them. 

At  this  time  Francis  Hare  was  at  Christ  Church,  but  he 
did  not  distinguish  himself  there.  The  fact  was  that  the 
pupil  of  Mezzofanti,  Lehmann,  and  Dr.  Brown  went  up  to 
college  knowing  too  much.  He  found  himself  so  far  beyond 
all  his  compeers,  and  he  had  such  a  profound  contempt  for 
the  examinations  of  the  Oxford  schools,  as  compared  with 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  167 

those  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  see  in  the  Italian 
and  German  universities,  that  he  neglected  study  altogether, 
and  devoted  his  whole  time  to  hunting  and  other  amuse- 
ments. In  spite  of  this,  he  was  so  naturally  talented,  that 
he  could  not  help  increasing  his  vast  amount  of  knowledge, 
even  during  his  idle  years  at  Oxford,  so  that  Dean  Jackson 
used  to  say  of  him,  that  "  he  was  the  only  rolling  stone  he 
knew  that  ever  gathered  any  moss." 

When  he  left  Oxford,  Francis  Hare  lived  principally  at 
his  rooms  in  the  Albany,  and  the  remembrance  of  many  of 
his  old  friends  still  lingers  on  his  pleasant  chambers  (in  the 
end  house  in  the  court),  and  the  delightful  parties  which 
used  to  meet  in  them,  and  which  included  all  that  was  most 
agreeable  and  clever  in  London  young-manhood.  In  his 
conversational  powers  he  was  almost  unrivalled,  and  it  was 
thus,  not  in  writing,  that  he  made  known  his  immense  mass 
of  information  on  all  possible  subjects.  -"Francis  leads  a 
rambling  life  of  pleasure  and  idleness,"  wrote  his  cousin, 
Mrs.  Dashwood,  "  he  must  have  read — but  who  can  tell  at 
what  time?  for  wherever  there  is  dissipation,  there  is 
Francis  in  its  wake  and  its  most  ardent  pursuer ;  yet  in 
spite  of  this,  let  any  subject  be  named  in  society,  and 
Francis  will  know  more  of  it  than  nineteen  out  of  its 
twenty." 

When  Augustus  Hare  went  to  reside  at  New  College  in 
the  Michaelmas  term  of  1810,  he  found  himself  surrounded 
by  a  large  circle  of  his  Winchester  friends.  Randall  had 
gone  up  to  Trinity,  Oxford,  the  year  before,  but  Black- 
stone  and  Stow  were  with  him  at  New  College,  and  many 


1 68  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

others  with  whom  he  was  less  intimate.  Hull  of  Brasenose 
and  Arnold  of  Corpus  also  belonged  to  the  closest  circle  of 
his  friends.  "  Friendship,"  he  wrote  in  one  of  his  note- 
books of  this  time,  "  is  love  without  the  veil  and  the 
flowers." 

A  miniature  Parliament  was  still  the  Elysium  in  which 
the  imagination  of  Hare  and  his  friends  delighted.  Ran- 
dall and  he  at  once  wished  to  establish  a  debating  club  at 
Oxford,  on  the  principles  of  that  which  already  existed  at 
Cambridge,  under  the  name  of  "  The  Cambridge  University 
Political  Society."  They  talked  to  all  their  friends  about  it, 
and  tried  to  enlist  them ;  but  the  overture  was  coldly 
received  for  the  most  part.  They  met  with  only  two  hearty 
coadjutors,  Kent  of  Trinity,  and  Comyn  of  St  John's. 
Even  these  two,  and  Randall  himself,  took  rather  a  de- 
sponding view  of  the  matter.  They  thought  the  attempt 
would  be  an  utter  failure,  and  that  they  should  only  b<» 
laughed  at;  but  they  could  not  bear  to  disappoint  Hare, 
whose  heart  was  entirely  set  upon  it.  Thus  "  The  Attic 
Society  "  (so  called  after  much  deliberation,  with  something 
of  a  punning  reference  to  the  abodes  of  most  of  its  first 
members)  held  its  first  meeting  in  Randall's  rooms  and  under 
his  presidency.  The  members  at  first  were  only  seven  in 
number.  They  were  : — 

i.  Kent,  Trinity.  He  was  the  star  of  his  college  and  of 
the  society.  He  took  a  distinguished  first-class  in  mathe- 
matics, and  was  the  delight  of  every  company  that  he 
entered,  the  dearest  friend  of  all  his  friends,  who  were 
many,  and  moreover,  the  best  oar  upon  the  river.  He  died 
in  his  twenty-eighth  year,  having  given  promise  of  a  brilliant 


AUGUSTUS    AND   JULIUS    HARE.  169 

career  in  his  profession,  though  as  yet  only  a  pleader  under 
the  Bar. 

2.  Comyn,  St.  John's.     He  was  Chief  Justice  at  Madras, 
retired  on  a  pension,  and  died  in  London. 

3.  Hare,  New  College. 

4.  Roe,   Trinity,    a    lively   Irishman    from    Tipperary ; 
clever,  good-humoured,  and  much  liked;  but  with  a  con- 
siderable spice  of  the  Irish  capacity  for  blundering.     He 
sat  in  Parliament  (1834)  for  Cashel,  as  a  joint  of  O'ConnelPs 
tail. 

5.  Randall,  Trinity,  Archdeacon  of  Berkshire. 

6.  Streatfield,  Trinity,  afterwards  Vicar  of  East  Ham. 

7.  Everth,  Trinity. 

From  this  scanty  beginning  the  society  increased  more 
rapidly  than  its  founders  had  ever  ventured  to  expect. 
Among  the  members  shortly  enrolled  were : — 

Singleton,  Trinity,  another  good  specimen  of  Irishry. 

Ackerley,  Trinity. 

Smith,  Trinity,  afterwards  Vicar  of  Grays  near  Henley. 

Villiers,  Baliol,  afterwards  Vicar  of  Bromsgrove. 

Basevi,  Baliol. 

Lowe,  Brasenose. 

Milman,  Brasenose,  afterwards  Dean  of  St.  Paul's. 

Hull,  Brasenose. 

Arnold,  Corpus,  Head  Master  of  Rugby. 

Bartholomew,  Corpus,  Archdeacon  of  Barnstaple. 

Belin,  New  College. 

Beckley,  New  College. 

Blackstone,  New  College,  Rector  of  Heckfield. 

Stow,  New  College,  Heber's  chaplain  in  India. 

Ching,  St.  John's. 

Hayter,  Trinity,  Sir  W.  G.,  Secretary  to  the  Treasury. 


170  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Evans,  Trinity. 
Andrews,  Trinity. 
Lowndes,  Brasenose. 

The  Attic  Society  was  such  a  darling  object  of  Augustus 
Hare's  affections,  that  its  history  is  in  a  great  measure  that 
of  his  college  life.  Communication  was  opened  between 
the  young  Oxford  society  and  that  previously  established  at 
Cambridge.  Copies  of  their  statutes  were  mutually  trans- 
mitted, and  the  members  of  each  society  were  made 
honorary  members  of  the  other.  It  is  not  recollected  that 
any  member  of  the  Cambridge  society  ever  availed  himself 
of  the  privilege  of  attending  the  Oxford  meetings;  but 
Augustus  Hare,  on  a  visit  to  Cambridge,  took  his  seat  and 
spoke  in  theirs.  He  was  complimented  upon  his  speech, 
when,  with  characteristic  patriotism,  he  assured  the  Cam- 
bridge men  that  in  his  own  society  he  was  quite  an  ordinary 
speaker,  and  had  many  greatly  his  superiors. 

When  the  society  was  fairly  established,  its  founders 
delighted  themselves  in  building  airy  castles  of  its  future 
glories.  They  speculated  upon  the  time,  when  in  process 
of  years  the  present  or  some  future  undergraduate  mem- 
bers would  have  grown  up  into  Dons  and  Heads  of 
Houses,  and  when  even  a  Vice-Chancellor  would  on  some 
grand  occasion  leave  his  bedel  and  staff  at  the  door,  and 
take  his  seat  as  a  member,  subject,  while  so  sitting,  to 
the  authority  of  the  president.  These  grand  anticipations 
were  not  destined  to  be  realised.  The  Attic  Society  was 
too  far  in  advance  of  its  age.  The  Dons  always  looked 
unfavourably  upon  it ;  and  in  the  troubled  years  that  suc- 
ceeded the  peace  of  1815,  when  all  Debating  Societies  were 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  171 

in  bad  odour,  it  came  to  an  end,  either  in  consequence  of 
some  intimation  from  the  authorities,  or  from  the  mere 
prudence  of  its  members.  After  its  dissolution  in  Oxford, 
the  Attic  Society  was  reformed  into  an  annual  meeting  in 
London,  which  lasted  two  or  three  years,  and  then  dropped, 
owing  to  the  early  deaths  of  several  of  its  choicest  members.* 

Augustus  was  exceedingly  fortunate  in  at  once  obtaining 
"  the  garden  rooms  "  at  New  College,  and  from  these  rooms, 
with  their  charming  view  across  the  green  lawns  and 
between  the  old  chestnuts  to  the  beautiful  Magdalen  Tower, 
he  never  afterwards  moved.  His  opposite  neighbour  upon 
the  same  staircase  was  afterwards  "  Chancellor  Martin,"  and 
with  him  he  had  the  common  use  of  rooms  and  books  which 
intimate  friends  so  located  at  Oxford  generally  enjoy. 
Martin  was  already  distinguished,  even  from  his  school- 
days, for  the  sound  judgment,  steady  practice,  and  manners 
at  once  firm  and  conciliating,  which  made  him  afterwards 
so  valuable  to  his  bishop  as  a  judicial  officer,  and  so  in- 
fluential a  member  of  Convocation. 

The  interest  which  Augustus  Hare  felt  in  politics  in- 
creased during  his  Oxford  life,  and,  in  October,  1813,  he 
gave  evidence  of  the  sagacity  and  clear-sightedness  with 
which  he  had  followed  Napoleon  in  his  German  campaigns, 
by  a  practical  joke  which  he  played  upon  the  University, 
and  which  rendered  him  remarkable  for  years  afterwards,  in 
societies  where  his  better  and  worthier  talents  would  have 
passed  unnoticed.  On  returning  one  evening  from  a 
meeting  of  the  Attic  Society  he  wrote  an  account  of  a 

*  All  the  information  regarding  the  Attic  Society  is  due  to  notes 
contributed  by  Archdeacon  Randall. 


172  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

great  battle,  and  a  victory  gained  over  the  Crown  Prince 
near  the  imaginary  village  of  Altendorn,  in  imitation  of  a 
bulletin  from  Napoleon.  This  arrived  at  Oxford  the  next 
day  by  post,  enclosed  in  a  cover,  to  Martin  Stow,  Fellow 
of  New  College,  and  professing  to  come  from  his  father's 
office  in  London,  of  which  Mr.  Eve  (in  whose  name  the 
letter  was  written)  was  a  clerk.  Mr.  Eve's  letter  began  by 
some  statements  about  money  matters,  and  proceeded,  "  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  an  account  of  a  great  victory  over  the 
Crown  Prince  by  Bonaparte  has  just  reached  the  office, 
which,  as  it  has  arrived  too  late  for  insertion  in  the  evening 
papers,  I  take  the  liberty  of  copying  for  you.  There  are 
two  dispatches  to  the  Empress;  the  first,  dated  the  i2th, 
merely  gives  an  account  of  what  we  heard  before,  that 
Bonaparte  having  left  Dresden,  detached  a  large  army 
towards  Berlin  and  then  retreated  on  Duben.  It  concludes 
thus  : — '  If  the  allies  follow  us,  a  great  battle  may  be  hourly 
expected.'  The  second  is  as  follows,  dated  the  2ist,  head- 
quarters at  Duben  " Then  came  a  long  account  of 

the  supposititious  battle  which  concluded — "  Thus  has  the 
justice  of  Providence,  and  the  brilliant  dispositions  of  the 
Emperor,  in  a  moment  dissipated  those  numerous  battalions 
that  threatened  to  carry  us  across  the  Rhine  and  violate  the 
integrity  of  the  Empire.  An  impartial  posterity  will  rank 
the  Battle  of  Altendorn  among  the  days  of  Austerlitz,  Jena, 
and  Friedland.  The  head-quarters  will  to-morrow  be 
removed  to  Delitsche.  The  Emperor,  notwithstanding  his 
fatigues,  continues  to  enjoy  the  best  health." 

So  similar  was  the  style  to  that  of  the  usual  bulletins,  so 
accurate  the  geographical  details,  and  so  probable  the  move- 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS   HARE.  173 

ments  described,  that  all  the  members  of  the  University  who 
read  the  fictitious  dispatch  were  completely  taken  in  for 
more  than  a  day  and  a  half,  till  the  coaches  of  Monday 
bringing  down  the  morning  papers  dispelled  the  illusion. 
Even  then,  and  long  afterwards,  those  who  had  eagerly 
studied  the  fictitious  dispatch,  and  the  geography  of  the 
imaginary  movements,  found  it  difficult  to  separate  the  story 
of  the  victory  at  Altendorn,  from  that  of  the  real  history  of 
the  campaign.* 

Another  practical  joke  which  Augustus  Hare  assisted  in 
playing  upon  the  University,  was  at  the  time  when  Madame 
de  Stae'l  was  at  the  height  of  her  celebrity.  It  was  announced 
that  she  was  in  England,  and  was  about  to  visit  Oxford, 
where  she  had  an  undergraduate  friend.  For  a  few  weeks 
the  undergraduate  who  was  to  be  so  highly  honoured, 
became  an  object  of  universal  interest.  At  length  it  was 
noised  abroad  that  the  great  lady  had  arrived,  and  under 
the  extraordinary  circumstances  and  to  meet  so  illustrious 
a  guest,  the  undergraduate  ventured  to  invite  several  of  the 
heads  of  houses,  and  even  the  Vice-Chancellor  himself, 
to  meet  her  at  breakfast.  The  party  assembled,  Madame 
de  Stae'l  was  there,  and  so  charmed  everybody  by  her 
grace,  wit,  and  brilliancy,  that  they  all  went  away  feeling 
that  they  had  found  her  even  more  than  they  anticipated. 
It  was  not  till  many  weeks  after  that  it  was  discovered 
that  she  had  never  been  in  Oxford  at  all,  and  that  she 
had  been  represented  by  a  clever  undergraduate,  who  had 
resided  for  many  years  in  France  !  t 

•  Contributed  by  the  Rev.  F.  Blackstone. 
Rev.  F.  Blackstone's  "  Reminiscences.1* 


174  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

On  first  going  to  New  College,  Augustus  was  rendered 
very  indignant  by  the  negligence  of  the  college  tutors,  who 
"  took  no  notice  of  the  undergraduates,  beyond  hearing  them 
construe  a  certain  portion  of  the  classics  for  two  hours  every 
day."  On  this  subject,  however,  Lady  Jones  wrote  to 
him : — 

"  I  am  neither  dismayed  nor  disappointed  at  the  very  little 
assistance  you  will  receive  from  the  college  tutors.  By  what 
I  have  always  known  and  heard  of  university  studies  I  am 
convinced  that  they  entirely  depend  upon  the  student's  own 
inclination  and  application.  I  might  mention  only  the 
former,  for,  where  that  prevails  in  a  sufficient  degree,  the 
latter  will  follow.  I  know  in  your  boyish  days  you  have 
always  wanted  some  one  to  spur  you  on,  but  I  am  convinced 
this  is  no  longer  the  case,  but  that  your  own  good  sense  is 
a  sufficient  spur  to  overcome  your  natural  indolence,  and,  in 
spite  of  indolent  tutors,  you  will  steadily  and  assiduously 
proceed  with  your  studies.  You  have  talents  and  a  fair 
field  open  before  you.  The  Church  was  never  so  devoid  of 
learned  men,  and  the  laity  are  very  clamorous  about  it — so 
that  a  Barrow,  a  Lowth,  or  even  a  Horsley,  with  your  gentle 
manners  and  correct  principles,  would  be  certain  of  dis- 
tinction, and,  what  I  am  sure  to  you  would  weigh  far  more, 
would  be  a  means  of  happiness  to  thousands,  and  a  greater 
blessing  to  the  nation  than  political  cabals  would  ever 

make  any  one,  be  their  talents  what  they  may 

I  like  you  too  well  just  as  you  are  to  wish  any  great 
change  either  in  mind  or  body,  but  especially  in  the 
former,  which  I  delight  in  thinking  is  such  as  will  secure 
your  own  happiness  here  and  hereafter,  and  make  the 
solace  and  pride  of  my  old  age.  That  God  may  bless 
my  dear  Augustus  is  the  fervent  prayer  of  his  affectionate 
aunt." 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.                           175 
» 1 

It  was  during  the  summer  of  1813  that  the  repugnance 
which  Augustus  had  always  felt  for  taking  Orders  became 
so  strong,  that  he  ventured  to  risk  the  anger  of  Lady  Jones 
by  its  avowal.  Knowing  how  strongly  her  wishes  were  fixed 
upon  this  subject,  both  from  a  real  desire  for  his  future  use- 
fulness in  the  Church,  and  from  the  natural  wish  that  he 
should  succeed  to  the  rich  family  living  of  Hurstmonceaux, 
he  greatly  dreaded  the  effect  which  his  decision  would  have 
upon  her.  During  a  visit  which  he  paid  in  the  summer  to 
his  cousins  the  Hebers,*  he  consulted  them  as  to  how  he 
could  best  break  the  disappointment  to  his  aunt,  and  the 
result  was  that  Reginald  Heber  himself  undertook  to  write 
to  Lady  Jones  upon  the  subject. 

"  Dear  Lady  Jones, — I  am  anxious  to  write  to  you  on  a 
subject  in  which  you  take  a  most  kind  interest,  and  on 
which  you  flattered  me  so  far  as  to  consult  me  when  last  we 
met.  I  mean  the  future  plans  of  our  friend  Augustus.  It 
was  then  and  is  still  my  opinion  that  his  disposition,  attain- 
ments, and  habits  are  all  such  as  will  be  most  likely  to  make 
a  valuable  and  happy  clergyman,  and  I  doubt  whether  his 
health  is  sufficiently  firm  to  allow  of  his  being  equally  happy 
as  a  barrister.  In  the  early  part  of  his  visit  to  Moreton  I 
perceived  that  he  was  wavering  between  the  choice  of  these 
professions,  and  took  some  pains,  by  such  means  as  were 
least  likely  to  make  him  suspect  my  intention,  to  show  off, 
as  I  may  say,  the  utility  and  interest  of  my  own  clerical 
pursuits,  to  which,  as  I  am  myself  fond  of  them,  I  had  con- 
siderable hopes  of  attaching  him,  or  of  at  least  removing 
any  prejudices  which  he  might  have  conceived  against  them, 

*  Reginald  Heber  had  married  (April,  1809)  Amelia  Shipley, 
youugest  daughter  of  the  Dean  of  St.  Asaph. 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


and,  since  it  has  been  no  longer  necessary  that  I  should 
appear  ignorant  of  your  wishes  and  those  of  his  other 
friends,  I  have,  in  plain  terms,  had  many  discussions  with 
him,  and  he  in  my  presence  consulted  Mr.  Warren.  I  can 
say  with  great  truth  that  I  can  see  no  reason  whatever  to 
suspect  that  either  idleness  or  any  childish  aversion  to  a 
black  coat  have  influenced  his  opinion  on  this  subject.  He 
has  dwelt  much  and  sensibly  on  the  great  remoteness  of  his 
own  prospects  of  any  extensive  field  for  utility  in  the  Church, 
or  of  any  comfortable  maintenance  to  be  drawn  from  it,  and 
though  his  objections  have  not  related  to  any  part  of  the 
duties  of  a  clergyman,  he  has  expressed  a  doubt  whether, 
without  a  real  relish  for  them,  he  should  ever  perform  them 
well.  There  are,  he  says,  other  disadvantages  in  his 
prospects,  some  of  which  are  peculiar  to  his  college,  — 
which  holds  out  very  few  prospects  of  preferment  and  no 
encouragement  to  become  a  tutor,  so  that  for  many  years  a 
curacy  must  be  the  boundary  of  his  hopes.  I  am  not  my- 
self convinced  by  these  arguments,  but  they  are  I  confess 
such  as  joined  to  the  encouraging  view  which  Mr.  Warren 
gave  of  his  profession,  may  fully  justify  him  in  refusing  at 
present  to  pledge  himself  to  enter  into  Orders,  which, 
indeed,  he  as  yet  cannot  do,  —  and,  I  must  add  that  it  is  my 
opinion,  that  if  left  to  his  own  reflections,  the  very  indolence 
which  we  have  remarked  in  him  will,  as  the  time  draws 
nearer,  be  likely  to  decide  him  in  favour  of  present  ease 
and  tranquillity  over  a  distant  chance  of  legal  honours  and 
fortune.  He  has  promised  me  to  ask  the  opinions  of  his 
own  legal  friends,  of  the  young  as  well  as  those  who  have 
mastered  the  difficulties  of  their  profession,  of  the  unsuc- 
cessful as  well  as  the  fortunate,  and  their  answers  will  (to 
judge  from  my  own  experience)  be  not  unlikely  to  make  him 
decide  as  you  now  wish  him,  and  believe  me  when  I  say 
that  it  is  not  without  very  evident  pain  that  he  has  on  this 
occasion  differed  from  one  to  whom  he  owes  so  much. 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  177 

Under  these  circumstances,  a  year's  time  on  the  part  of  all 
advisers  will  not,  I  think,  be  too  much  to  ask  for  him.  He 
may  be  right  or  wrong  in  declining  the  Church,  but  as  the 
black  stain,  once  circumfused,  can  never,  thanks  to  our  wise 
lawyers,  be  washed  off,  we  cannot  blame  him  for  hesitating." 

During  the  last  year  of  his  undergraduate  life  Augustus 
Hare  was  occupied  by  an  attempt  to  extinguish  (on  the 
ground  of  lapse  of  time,  and  consequent  wearing  out  of  all 
real  relationship)  the  privileges  of  Founders'  kin  at  Win- 
chester and  New  College.  He  also  printed  an  attack,  in 
the  form  of  a  letter  to  his  friend  George  Martin,  on  the 
privilege  or  custom  of  New  College  men  not  going  into 
the  school  for  the  public  examinations,  but  claiming  a  B.A. 
degree  after  an  examination  by  their  own  authorities  in 
college,  which  not  unnaturally  brought  down  a  hurricane  of 
wrath  from  the  Warden,  and  most  of  the  Fellows  of  the 
College,  who  attempted  to  make  it  a  reason  for  refusing  him 
the  grace  necessary  for  taking  his  degree.  On  this  point 
they  were  baffled,  as  the  only  statutable  ground  for  refusing 
a  degree  is  insufficiency  of  scholarship,  but  their  anger  is  not 
surprising  when  it  is  considered  that  this,  the  first  attempt 
at  "  University  Reform,"  was  made  by  an  undergraduate 
against  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  society  to  which  he 
belonged,  and  whose  privileges  he  had  so  long  benefited  by. 

In  1817  Lady  Jones  gave  Augustus  ^150  to  spend  in 
travelling  on  the  Continent,  and  he  left  England  with  his 
brother  Francis  on  the  2gth  of  July.  The  following  ex- 
tracts are  from  his  foreign  letters : — 

AUGUSTUS  to  JULIUS  HARE. 

"  August,  1817. — Coleridge  ought  to  have  written  a  poem 
on  the  tails  of  Schaiihauseu,  as  a  companion  for  his  hymn 

VOL.  I.  N 


178  MEMORIALS*   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

on  Mont  Blanc.  To  me  that  fall  was  certainly  the  most 
majestic  sight  I  had  yet  seen ;  and  so  awakening  were  the 
images  and  emotions  it  called  up,  that  I  could  not  refrain  from 
attempting  to  embody  them  in  words,  at  the  very  moment 
when  I  was  possessed  with  the  fullest  consciousness  that 
no  words  could  represent  them  to  myself,  much  less  convey 
to  others,  the  rushing  and  whirls,  the  flashes  and  roar,  the 
mountains  of  foam  and  columns  of  spray,  which  had  just 
been  surrounding  and  amazing  me.  We  are  too  lavish  of 
strong  expressions,  in  speaking  of  little  things,  to  have  a 
sufficient  store  of  them  in  reserve  for  great.  What  is  louder 
than  thunder,  what  more  momentary  in  brightness,  more 
awful  in  rapidity,  than  lightning  ?  And  yet  these  two  super- 
latives of  nature  are  called  in  day  after  day,  to  give  conse- 
quence to  cracks  and  sparkles,  until  we  reach  this  might} 
waterfall  without  an  image  or  illusion  left  to  impart  a  notion 
of  what  the  eye  and  ear  are  feeling. 

"  The  Rhine  at  SchafThausen  is  already  a  considerable 
stream,  some  hundred  feet  in  breadth.  Between  the  town 
and  the  fall,  which  is  about  half  a  league  from  it,  the  river, 
after  making  two  right  angles  in  its  course,  turns  abruptly 
and  makes  yet  another,  to  plunge  headlong  down  a  preci- 
pice of  seventy  feet.  We  crossed  it  at  Schaflfhausen,  and 
followed  the  left  bank  through  vineyards  until  the  walls  of 
Laufen  Castle,  which  overhangs  the  fall,  prevented  our  pro- 
ceeding farther.  We  then  mounted  the  rock  on  which  the 
castle  stands,  and  while  waiting  for  the  key  of  the  door  that 
was  to  admit  us  to  a  sight  of  the  cataract,  I  looked  out  of  a 
window  in  the  court,  and  saw  the  Rhine  already  emerged 
from  the  fall,  but  still  one  stream  of  foam,  flowing  on  and 
gradually  changing  colour,  until  it  disappeared  betwixt  the 
quiet  banks  of  green,  itself  aiso  by  that  time  as  green  and 
quiet  as  if  it  had  never  been  disturbed.  The  door  was  now 
in  locked,  and  we  descended  a  steep  winding  path,  until  we 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS   HARE.  179 

found  ourselves  in  a  little  jutting  gallery,  opposite  the  cas- 
cade, and  within  its  spray.  Then  opened  on  my  eyes  and 
ears  (which  hitherto  I  had  deafened  purposely  to  avoid 
getting  accustomed  to  the  noise  of  the  fall  before  I  saw  it) 
a  scene  wherein  sensation  for  awhile  absorbed  me.  When 
at  last  I  became  collected  enough  to  distinguish  the  sights 
and  sounds  which  had  astounded  me,  I  perceived  that  on 
my  left  hand,  very  near  as  it  then  seemed  to  the  right  bank, 
two  rocks  broke  the  stream.  Of  these  one  stood  perhaps 
thirty  yards  before  the  other,  and  the  torrent  rushed  furiously 
through  the  opening  between  them.  On  the  left  hand,  just 
above  the  fall,  the  waters  had  scooped  out  a  large  basin,  the 
issue  from  which  into  a  narrow  channel  produced  on  that 
side  of  me  the  same  violent  cross-current  as  the  passage  be- 
twixt the  two  rocks  produced  on  the  other.  Between  these 
two  cross-currents  the  main  body  of  the  water  fell,  or  rather 
— to  speak  as  it  looked — turned  on  its  axis.  For  as  the 
bottom  of  the  descending  stream  was  lost  in  its  own  vapour, 
this  part  of  the  river,  from  incessantly  rolling  down  an 
unbroken  mass  of  foam,  seemed  an  ever-revolving  avalanche 
crested  with  snowy  spray.  But  how  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
depth  of  the  sound,  when  the  two  cross  streams,  which  had 
been  prancing  along  sideways,  arching  their  necks  like  war- 
horses  that  hear  the  trumpet,  broke  from  the  main  stream  and 
forced  their  way  into  it !  From  the  valley  of  thunder  where 
they  encountered  rose  a  towering  misty  column,  behind 
which  the  river  unites  unseen,  as  though  unwilling  that  any 
should  witness  the  awfully  tender  reconcilement  of  its 
waters.  In  returning  up  the  path,  contrasting  in  my  mind 
the  confusion  I  had  just  left  with  the  comparative  tran- 
quillity of  the  stream  above,  and  its  subsequent  quiet  still- 
ness as  it  winds  between  its  green  banks,  I  found  it  remind 
me  of  the  one  day  of  terror  which  is  to  separate  time  from 
eternity.  The  idea  was  auengthened  when,  looking  back 


180  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

on  the  scene  of  turbulence  from  a  summer-house  immedi- 
ately over  it,  I  saw  the  glorious  sun,  that  visible  eye  of  God, 
not  only  smiling  on  the  river  in  both  its  states  of  quietness, 
but  beautifying  the  very  fall  itself  with  the  colours  of  a  per- 
fect rainbow,  thus  brightening  the  dept'i  of  the  extremest 
uproar  with  a  gleam  of  light  and  peace,  and  a  sign  of 
hope. 

"  After  fully  examining  this  side  of  the  waterfall,  we  got 
into  a  boat  to  cross  over.  In  our  passage  I  discovered  that 
what  I  had  taken  for  nearly  the  whole  stream  was  little  more 
than  a  third  of  it,  and  that  between  the  right  bank  and  the 
two  rocks  before  spoken  of  was  a  third,  which  divided  the 
remainder  of  the  river  into  two  unequal  parts,  so  as  to  make 
three  cascades  in  all.  One  has  been  already  described. 
The  middle  fall  is  perhaps  the  broadest,  and  though  not  so 
interesting  as  either  of  its  brethren,  brings  its  waters  down 
with  great  dignity  in  one  straight  unbroken  flood.  The  fall 
adjoining  the  right  bank  is  the  smallest.  To  this  we  ap- 
proached very  near  by  means  of  a  mill  which  is  built  close 
to  it.  Here  I  perceived  to  my  great  delight  that  what  pre- 
viously and  at  a  distance  seemed  a  savage  contest  between 
the  currents,  is  only  a  fiercer  joyousness  and  the  fury  of 
mimic  war.  The  waters,  after  rushing  to  the  onset,  leap 
back  from  it  with  a  laughing  exultation  and  boyish  alacrity 
incompatible  with  hostility  or  hatred.  The  third  fall  is  very 
beautiful  indeed,  the  whole  stream  on  that  side  running 
aslant  over  a  bed  of  rocks  till  it  tumbles  forward  in  vast 
masses  like  enormous  blocks  of  crystal,  with  edges  so  white 
and  brilliant,  so  sudden  in  appearance,  and  following  one 
another  with  a  speed  so  glancing,  that  they  gave  the  idea  of 
frost  lightnings."* 

•  This  passage  has  already  appeared  in  the  Second  Series  of  the 
"Guesses  at  Truth." 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  181 

From  Schaffhausen  the  travellers  proceeded  to  Zurich,  and 
then  made  a  tour  of  the  Grisons  in  company  of  two  young 
Englishmen,  Mr.  Neave  (afterwards  Sir  Digby)  and  Mr. 
Penrhyn.  The  latter  was  already  known  to  Francis  Hare, 
but  to  Augustus  this  was  the  first  introduction  to  the  family 
with  which  he  was  afterwards  most  closely  connected, 

A.  W.  HARE  to  LADY  JONES. 

"  Sept.  12. — There  was  perhaps  no  place  which  we  were 
to  visit  that  I  was  more  desirous  of  seeing  than  the  lake  of 
Lucerne,  since  one  finds  on  its  shores  not  only  the  field  of 
Rutli  (or  Grutli,  as  the  people  here  call  it),  famous  for  being 
the  spot  on  which  the  liberty  of  Switzerland  was  first  con- 
certed, but  likewise  William  Tell's  chapel,  where  at  a  dis- 
tance of  twenty  years  I  well  remember  my  mother  made  me 
kiss  the  pavement  as  a  mark  of  homage  to  the  virtues  of  the 
peasant  hero.  The  chapel,  I  am  afraid,  disappointed  me ; 
but  climbing  up  to  the  field  of  Rutli  was  very  delightful,  and 
my  draught  of  water  from  the  three  springs  which  they 
cherish  there,  in  honour  of  the  three  first  planners  of  Hel- 
vetic independence,  was  one  of  the  best  things  that  I  have 
done  since  I  left  England.  It  was  impossible  to  reflect  on 
the  action,  of  which  we  were  celebrating  the  memory,  with- 
out a  religious  emotion.  For  that  three-and-thirty  peasants 
without  any  wealth  but  their  cross-bows,  and  without  any 
earthly  resource  but  their  own  courage,  should  have  formed 
the  desperate  resolution  of  waging  war  against  the  House  of 
Austria,  and  that  in  consequence  of  this  daring  attempt  their 
descendants  should  have  enjoyed  five  centuries  of  uninter- 
rupted liberty,  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  among  the 
crowd  of  miracles,  misnamed  '  unaccountably  fortunate  occur- 
rences,' which  cross  the  reader  at  every  step  of  the  page  of 
history." 


182  MEMORIALS  OF  A  QUIET  LUTE. 

"  Bologna^  Oft.  25. — At  last  we  have  got  an  Italian  sun, 
and  a  beautiful  sight  it  is.  There  is  nothing  that  I  can 
persuade  myself  into  fancying  I  remember  here  but  the 
great  square,  and  even  that  has  grown  so  much  smaller  to 
my  eyes  since  I  left  Italy,  that  but  for  its  name  and  situation 
I  should  not  have  had  the  least  chance  of  recoflectmg  it 
Stifl  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  visit  a  place  that  I  have  heard 
and  thought  so  much  about.  Though  the  town  has  lost  the 
six  pictures  which  my  mother  copied  in  the  Zampieri 
Palace,  and  which  were  bought  some  years  back  for  the 
Gallery  at  Milan,  it  can  still  boast  of  a  beautiful  collection : 
as  one  sees  in  it  some  of  the  finest  works  of  every  great 
artist  belonging  to  the  Bolognese  School  except  Annibale 
Caracci,  and  besides  these  the  famous  St  Cecilia  of  Raphael. 

"  Off.  27. — I  am  quite  delighted  with  the  people  of 
Bologna.  They  all  seemed  so  glad  to  see  my  brother  again. 
Mezzofanti  especially,  who  was  formerly  one  of  his  thousand 
and  one  instructors,  and  who  is  now  celebrated  as  the 
greatest  linguist  in  the  world,  being  perfect  master  of  thirty 
languages,  besides  being  more  or  less  acquainted  with  twenty 
others,  could  hardly  satisfy  himself  with  looking  at  his  old 
pupil,  who,  he  had  heard  from  Fazakerley,  had  turned  out 
a  great  Grecian.  Then  he  alluded,  with  looks  of  gratitude, 
to  my  brother's  great  kindness  to  him  in  a  dangerous  illness, 
then  talked  to  me  a  little,  then  began  rejoicing  over 
Francis  and  his  Greek  again.  We  saw  besides  him  Count 
Fava,  who  was  my  father  and  mother's  great  friend  there. 
Old  Senni  and  his  wife  are  still  living  at  Bologna,  and  we 
of  course  paid  them  a  visit  She,  it  seems,  was  the  person 
who  first  received  me  from  the  nurse's  arms,  and  who  always 
dressed  some  wound  in  my  head  that  I  was  bom  with,  and 
she  shrieked  out  when  she  saw  us,  that  next  to  her  own  dear 
son  from  heaven,  we  were  die  two  persons  she  most  wished 
to  see.  You  may  have  heard  my  mother  speak  of  her,  by 


AUGUSTUS  AND  JULIUS   HARE.  183 

the  name  of  Woolley.  From  her  we  went  to  the  mother  of 
the  Clotilde,  whose  brother,  by-the-bye,  is  the  best  painter 
in  Bologna,  and  has  done  himself  great  credit  by  restoring 
some  old  pictures.  When  she  heard  our  names,  the  dear 
old  woman  put  on  her  spectacles,  and  examined  us  for 
some  time,  then  shook  her  head  and  said  she  did  not  recol- 
lect us,  but  told  us  to  sit  down.  I  happened  to  take  a  chair 
near  the  window,  so  that  the  light  fell  full  on  my  face,  and  a 
few  moments  afterwards  she  cried  out  in  Italian,  '  Oh  yes,  I 
recollect  him  now,  the  little  Augustus;'  and  she  held  out 
her  hands  to  me,  so  that  I  might  come  and  kiss  her  as  I 
used  to  do.  We  finished  our  calls  at  the  house  of  the 
Rector  of  the  Spanish  College,  an  old  friend  of  Dom 
Emmanuele." 

From  Bologna  the  brothers  proceeded  to  Florence,  and 
thence,  after  much  hesitation  as  to  how  far  it  would  dis- 
please Lady  Jones,  having  received  no  letter  from  her, 
Augustus  proceeded  with  bis  brother  to  Rome.  Thence  he 
wrote  to  Lady  Jones : — 

"  Dec.  5,  1817. — We  left  Perugia  at  five  AJI.,  that  we 
might  have  plenty  of  time  for  the  cascade  of  Terni.  This, 
like  almost  every  other  which  I  have  seen,  except  the  Rhine, 
is  only  beautiful,  and  the  idea  of  force  is  so  inseparably 
connected  in  my  mind  with  torrents  and  waterfalls,  that 
mere  beauty  on  these  occasions  does  not  satisfy  me ;  but 
the  scenery  in  which  it  is  set  is  equal,  perhaps  more  than 
equal,  in  loveliness  to  anything  that  I  saw  in  Switzerland. 
The  thing  most  like  it  is  the  Linthal  in  Canton  Glarus,  ex- 
cept that  the  latter  is  topped  by  glaciers. On 

Wednesday  we  left  the  Apennines,  and  got  into  the  Cam- 
pagna  about  twenty  miles  from  Rome.  It  almost  seems 


184  MEMORIALS   OF    A   QUIET    LIFE. 

that  Italy  is  still  in  mourning  there  for  the  fallen  grandeur 
of  Rome.  Not  an  animal,  not  a  man,  not  a  house,  not 
even  a  ruin  is  to  be  seen  there  to  cheer  one  into  the  recol- 
lection that  it  was  once  inhabited.  I  had,  however,  been 
prepared  gradually  for  this  desolation  by  the  general  barren- 
ness of  the  Papal  States.  The  Apennines,  were  they  left 
alone,  would  probably  produce  grass  enough  to  feed  sheep 
in  abundance ;  but  the  inhabitants  torment  them  too  much, 
in  hopes  of  getting  corn,  to  allow  them  to  be  good  pasture, 
and  consequently  they  bear  nothing,  except  in  some  privi- 
leged spots,  which  are  covered  with  cork-trees  and  la- 
burnums, and  a  thousand  other  shrubs,  whose  names  I 
never  heard." 

At  Rome  the  brothers  lived  with  their  friends  the  Martins, 
by  whom  they  had  been  joined  at  Florence,  and  who  after- 
wards accompanied  Francis  to  Naples,  while  Augustus  re- 
turned to  England  after  a  very  short  stay  in  Rome,  from 
fear  of  his  aunt's  displeasure,  not  receiving  in  time  a  letter 
from  her,  saying  : — 

"  I  wish  to  set  your  heart  at  rest  as  to  my  approbation  of 
your  motions,  whatever  they  may  have  been.  I  feel  fully 
assured  your  wish  has  been  to  act  according  to  my  wishes, 
but  as  the  uncertainty  of  your  brother's  movements  has  pre- 
vented your  getting  my  letters,  you  must  have  been  left  to 
act  for  yourself,  and  if  you  have  gone  on  to  Rome,  be  assured 
I  shall  not  be  at  all  displeased ;  and  shall  only  hope  that 
you  will  stay  long  enough  to  see  what  is  most  worthy  of 
being  seen  in  your  birth-place,  and  then  that  you  will  get  a 
safe  conveyance  home  as  soon  as  you  can,  for  I  certainly 
do  not  wish  you  to  go  on  to  Naples,  Dalmatia,  or  whatever 
wild-goose  chase  Francis's  vagaries  may  lead  him." 


AUGUSTUS   ANlj   JULIUS    HARE.  185 

Augustus  was  even  more  impressed  than  he  anticipated 
with  the  wonders  of  Rome,  especially  of  St.  Peter's.  He 
wrote : — 

"  People  say  that  St.  Peter's  looks  larger  every  time  they 
see  it.  It  does  more.  It  seems  to  grow  larger  while  the 
eye  is  fixed  on  it,  even  from  the  very  doors  ;  and  then  ex- 
pands, as  you  go  forward,  almost  like  our  idea  of  God.  .  .  . 
On  entering  St.  Peter's  my  first  impulse  was  to  throw  myself 
on  my  knees ;  and  but  for  the  fear  of  being  observed  by  my 
companions,  I  must  have  bowed  my  face  to  the  ground  and 
kissed  the  pavement.  I  moved  slowly  up  the  nave,  op- 
pressed by  my  own  littleness ;  and  when  at  last  I  reached 
the  brazen  canopy,  and  my  spirit  sank  within  me  beneath 
the  sublimity  of  the  dome,  I  felt  that,  as  the  ancient  Romans 
could  not  condemn  Manlius  within  sight  of  the  Capitol,  so 
it  would  be  impossible  for  an  Italian  of  the  present  day  to 

renounce  Popery  under  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's 

But  how  disproportionate  are  the  projects  and  means  of 
men  !  To  raise  a  single  church  to  a  single  apostle  the 
monuments  of  antiquity  were  ransacked,  and  forgiveness  of 
sins  doled  out  at  a  price.  Yet  its  principal  gate  has  been 
left  unfinished,  and  its  holy  of  holies  is  encrusted  with 
stucco." 

January,  1818,  found  Augustus  Hare  again  in  England, 
and  he  soon  returned  as  a  tutor  to  New  College,  which 
continued  to  be  his  principal  residence  for  seven  years 
longer.  His  life  there  was  now  considerably  changed. 
His  old  friends  had  dispersed  in  different  directions.  Stow, 
the  dearest  of  them,  had  taken  orders,  and  was  curate  of 
Houghton-le-Skerne ;  Randall  also  had  left  Oxford  almost 
broken  -hearted  by  the  death  of  his  friend  Kent  in  thj  first 


1 86  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 


year  of  his  married  life.     Augustus  wrote  to  him  on  hearing 
cf  it  :— 

"January  24,  1818. — I  have  seldom  been  more  hurt  than 
at  hearing  from  Blackstone  of  the  sad  loss  we  have  both 
sustained  last  autumn.  On  you,  to  whom  Kent  was  every- 
thing from  similarity  of  tastes,  principles,  and  profession, 
the  affliction  must  have  lighted  with  a  force  heavy  indeed. 
Even  to  myself,  little  as  I  had  seen  of  him  for  some  time 
past,  it  has  been  a  hard  and  sudden  blow.  Fortunate  as  I 
have  been  in  most  of  my  acquaintances,  and  worthy  in 
every  sense  of  the  word,  but  especially  in  the  best  and 
highest  sense  of  it,  as  my  friends  have  all  happily  proved, 
I  could  ill  afford  to  spare  out  of  their  number  the  one  who 
was  most  distinguished  for  clear  discernment  and  steady 
prudence,  while  he  was  fully  equal  to  any  amongst  them  in 
honest  strength  of  principle  and  friendly  warmth  of  attach- 
ment. But  you  who  knew  him  much  better  than  I  could 
boast  to  do,  will  be  conscious  how  weak  and  inefficient 
these  or  any  other  words  are  to  give  an  idea  of  his  real 
merits.  And  thus  at  once  to  be  deprived  of  them,  thus  to 
lose  the  comfort  they  afforded,  thus  to  find  the  light  which 
his  example  shed  behind  it  to  guide  his  friends  who  were 
following  in  the  same  path,  unexpectedly  and  in  a  moment 
quenched,  is,  alas,  bitter  !  How  can  it  be  other  than  more 
bitter  to  you  above  all  his  other  friends,  my  dear  Randall, 
to  whom  he  was  exactly  as  a  brother  in  sincerity  and  fervour 
of  affection  ?  In  losing  him  you  have  lost  a  brother  indeed  ; 
but  turn  your  eyes  to  the  surviving  friends  who  have  been 
made  yours  by  time  and  trials,  and  days  spent  together  in 
joy,  and  hours  mutually  devoted  to  sorrow — turn  to  them, 
and  you  will  find  that  you  have  yet  a  few  brothers  remain- 
ing to  you.  It  is  you,  indeed,  who  in  your  present  solitude 
are  the  object  of  my  chief  solicitude,  for  I  feel  sure  that  to 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  187 

him  who  has  last  left  us,  the  change  cannot  be  otherwise  than 
a  happy  one.  Departing,  as  he  has  done,  in  the  innocence 
of  youth,  with  all  his  honourable  and,  I  believe,  all  his 
religious  sentiments  fresh  upon  him,  their  lustre  yet  un- 
sullied by  the  contaminations  of  the  world,  his  lot  is,  I 
believe  and  trust,  one  that  we  should  envy,  could  we  see  it. 
It  has  indeed  been  determined  that  we  should  not  see  it, 
and  with  all  our  usual  proneness  to  be  deceived  by  appear- 
ances, we  mistake  the  clouds,  which  conceal  from  us  the 
state  of  the  departed,  for  their  state  itself;  and  thus  come 
to  lend  to  it  the  coldness,  and  darkness,  and  dreariness, 
borrowed  from  our  own  deep  ignorance  and  sad  imaginations. 
But  even  Paganism  in  its  happier  hours  guessed  better 
things.  '  Largior  hie  campos  aether,  et  lumine  vestit  pur- 
pureo,  solemque  suum,  sua  sidera  norunt,'  was  the  heart- 
boding  suggested  to  it  by  nature,  during  the  absence  of 
more  certain  information  ;  and  is  it  likely,  nay,  is  it  possible, 
that  the  dreams  of  man  should  be  more  cheering  than  the 
glorious  magnificence  prepared  for  his  children  by  God?" 

Lady  Jones  continued  to  press  upon  Augustus  Hare  her 
desire  of  his  taking  orders.  On  May  4,  1818,  he  wrote  to 
her  from  New  College  • — 

"  I  ought  to  be  one  of  the  happiest  persons  in  existence : 
so  many  delights  are  crowding  round  me  in  all  shapes  and 
sizes.  The  weather,  with  all  its  spring  accompaniments  of 
air,  sunshine,  verdure,  and  singing  birds,  has  been  here  so 
perfect  as  to  make  Blackstone  cry  out  a  hundred  times 
a  day  that  for  such  days  he  believes  there  is  no  place  like 
England.  Then  we  have  had  Reginald  Heber  here  full  of 
spirits  at  the  idea  of  becoming  a  father.  He  came  to 
preach,  and  did  give  us  two  such  sermons — one  on,  '  To 
die  is  gain,'  showing  that  to  make  this  possible  required 


l88  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

an  Atonement,  the  other  upon  the  choice  of  principled 
friends, — that,  I  believe,  if  he  were  to  settle  here  and 
become  a  regular  preacher,  he  would  bring  church-going, 

and  perhaps  religion  itself,  into  practice And  now 

after  all  these  pleasant  subjects  to  a  less  agreeable  one.  I 
am  afraid  you  are  quite  right  in  suspecting  that  Trinity 
Sunday  and  its  approach  have  made  much  less  impression 
on  me  than  they  ought.  My  southern  expedition  was 
certainly  of  use  to  me  in  opening  my  eyes  and  ears  to 
sights  and  sounds  in  nature.  But  alas  !  this  good  is  just  at 
present  counterbalanced  by  the  indisposition  it  has  pro- 
duced in  me  to  give  up  my  time  and  thoughts  to  the 
abstruse  study  of  my  profession.  That  it  is  my  profession 
I  know,  well,  and  that  it  is  under  my  circumstances  of 
situation  the  best  employment  to  which  I  can  betake  myself. 
But  an  employment  in  which  one  engages  merely  from  con- 
siderations of  prudence  and  duty,  without  feeling  an  interest 
in  the  occupations  which  it  involves,  is  somewhat  irksome, 
and  one  does  not  without  an  effort  succeed  in  bringing  the 
mind  to  dwell  on  it.  I  fear  all  this  would  not  be  pleasing  to 
you,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  nothing  to  urge  that  can  make 
it  so ;  the  cause,  however,  I  hope,  will  ere  long  be  over, 
and  then  I  trust  all  things  will  go  on  smoothly  as  ever." 

Yet  the  high  estimation  in  which  Augustus  Hare  already 
held  the  clerical  office,  may  be  seen  from  the  following, 
written  to  his  friend  Frederick  Blackstone,  upon  his 
ordination : — 

"Dec.  1 8,  1818. — I  am  not  sorry  for  a  necessity  for 
writing,  as  it  ensures  the  expression  of  my  deep  sympathy 
in  the  sacred  character  which  you  are  on  the  point  of 
assuming.  You  are  about  to  become  a  teacher  in  our  new 
Israel;  and  the  titles  of  'watchman'  and  'father  of  souls,' 
high  as  they  are,  will  from  henceforth  be  yours.  Happy ! 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS   HARE.  189 

thrice  happy  !  the  person  by  whom  their  full  dignity  is  felt. 
What  a  freedom  from  the  thralls  of  the  world  and  the  flesh 
— what  a  piercing  insight  into  the  true  nature  of  things  ; 
how  large  a  share  of  the  wisdom  that  is  from  above  must 
be  possessed  by  such  a  man  !  To  me  it  is  a  source  of  much 
real  joy,  that  you,  my  much-tried  friend,  who  are  entering 
into  Christ's  ministry,  are  blest,  I  will  not  say  with  such  a 
perfect  sense  of  its  glories  as  I  have  been  figuring  to  myself, 
but  certainly  with  the  fittest  dispositions  for  in  time  arriving 
at  it.  With  perhaps  not  fewer  surface  faults  than  many  of 
my  acquaintance,  I  can  yet  with  truth  say, -that  in  sincere 
straightforward  singleness  of  heart,  I  believe  it  would  be 

difficult  to  go  beyond  you Certainly  the  Church  is 

the  sphere  for  you.  In  the  service  of  a  Creator  and  Re- 
deemer, your  zeal  will  enjoy  the  amplest  and  fairest  scope ; 
while  in  the  spirituality  of  your  future  objects,  whatever  of 
earth  still  clings  around  you,  must  in  time  find  a  corrective. 
Only  in  striving  to  be  perfect  do  not  be  betrayed  into 
timidity.  Our  scrupulousness,  taken  in  its  extreme,  consists 
neither  with  Christianity  nor  with  faith,  for  it  degrades  the 
Deity  into  a  taskmaster.  Plans  of  life  and  the  relations  of 
duty  must  be  once  examined,  and  afterwards  acted  on. 
'  Quod  putavi,  putavi,'  was  Larimer's  rule  at  the  stake,  and 
must  to  a  certain  degree  be  the  principle  of  all  who  are  not 
willing  to  spend  life  in  questioning. 

"  And  now  Adieu  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  word.  And 
may  He,  the  Being,  to  whom  you  are  thus  committed,  the 
Father  and  Friend  of  all,  instruct  you  in  the  truth,  fill  you 
with  the  spirit,  confirm  you  in  love,  strengthen  you  in  good- 
ness, and  make  you  the  minister  of  life,  even  of  life  eternal, 
to  all  those  over  whom  you  may  be  set,  in  the  name  and 
through  the  authority  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  Amen." 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


Julius  Hare  had  been  sent  to  Cambridge  in  November 
1812,  upon  which  occasion  his  father  wrote  to  Augustus  :  — 

"  I  have  been  to  settle  Julius  at  Cambridge,  which  I  have 
done  in  a  very  comfortable  lodging.  When  we  were  intro- 
duced to  Mr.  Monk,  the  Greek  professor,  he  told  Julius  that 
he  had  lately  had  so  high  a  character  of  him  from  Mr. 
Russell,  that  he  was  happy  to  make  his  acquaintance. 
Julius  at  the  same  time  heard  of  his  having  obtained  a  prize 
for  a  Latin  prose  composition  upon  the  kings  of  Rome.  It 
was  written  in  imitation  of  Cicero's  Dialogues,  and  Russell 
told  a  friend  of  Julius's  that  it  is  the  best  exercise  he  ever 
read  ;  and  in  a  letter  to  Julius,  he  says  that  he  thinks  of 
sending  it  to  the  Classical  Magazine.  Mr.  Hudson,  his 
tutor,  assures  me  that  he  may  live  very  well  upon  ;£i6o  a 
year.  His  business  is  to  study,  not  to  give  wine-parties, 
and  he  is  perfectly  aware,  that  if  he  runs  in  debt,  he  will  be 
immediately  taken  from  Cambridge.  If  he  gets  any  scholar- 
ships, their  emoluments  will  add  to  his  income,  and  it  will 
be  entirely  his  own  fault  if  he  does  not  get  them." 

When  Julius  Hare  went  up  to  Trinity  he  had  already 
earned  a  reputation  both  as  a  scholar  and  mathematician. 
Old  Charter-house  companions  brought  with  them  startling 
stories  of  his  school  prowess,  and  his  shelves  were  conspicu- 
ously laden  with  his  school  prizes.  Thus  he  was  eagerly 
welcomed  by  all  the  best  set  of  men  in  his  college  —  all 
those  whose  pursuit  and  aim  was  the  same  as  his  own. 
Sedgewick,  already  a  college  tutor,  made  a  friend  of  the 
freshman;  Starr,  Whewell,  Worsley,  and  Kenelm  Digby 
were  his  intimate  companions  —  the  recipients  of  his 
"Guesses  at  Truth"  —  the  witnesses  of  his  enthusiastic 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS   HARE.  1 91 

championship  or  furious  denunciations,  according  as  he 
was  biassed  by  the  feelings  of  the  moment ;  for  then,  as 
afterwards,  Julius  never  loved  or  hated  by  halves.  It  was 
perhaps  this  very  openness  and  demonstrativeness  of 
character  which  rendered  him  so  peculiarly  interesting  to 
his  acquaintances,  and  which  made  it  impossible  for  him  to 
pass  unnoticed.  He  was  often  loved,  frequently  detested, 
but  never  ignored.  The  knowledge  of  English  literature 
which  he  brought  with  him  to  Cambridge  was  extraordinary, 
but  his  knowledge  of  German  literature  was  hitherto  un- 
known in  an  English  undergraduate.  This  had  been 
partly  the  result  of  his  residence  as  a  child  with  his  dying 
mother  at  Weimar.  The  interest  which  was  then  aroused 
by  the  conversation  of  Goethe  and  Schiller,  of  the  good 
Duchess  of  Weimar,  and  of  other  illustrious  persons  who 
were  wont  to  meet  in  the  honoured  sick-chamber,  had  never 
passed  away.  Schiller  died  while  he  was  at  Weimar,  and 
his  childish  ambition  and  enthusiasm  were  aroused  by  see- 
ing this  great  loss  received  as  a  national  calamity  by  his 
mourning  fellow-countrymen.  The  great  poets  and  philo- 
sophers of  Germany  were  thus  no  mere  names  to  him,  but 
at  ten  years  old  they  were  grand  living  realities,  and  their 
tales  were  the  story-books,  their  poems  the  inspiration,  of 
his  childhood.  When  he  returned  to  England,  his  father's 
and  his  brothers'  libraries  kept  open  for  him  a  vast  field  of 
discovery  in  the  wealth  of  German  authors,  which  few  boys 
would  have  access  to,  and  indeed  few  would  appreciate. 
Lady  Jones  in  vain  remonstrated  against  what  she  con- 
sidered as  the  dangers  which  might  result  from  such  license 
in  reading  for  one  so  young,  but  Mr.  Hare-Naylor  was 

i 


MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 


accustomed  to  the  freedom  of  opinion  which  the  mother  of 
his  four  sons  had  always  encouraged,  and  desired  that  all 
possible  sources  of  information  might  be  left  open  to  his 
children. 

When  Julius  went  up  to  Cambridge,  he  gave  himself  up 
with  passionate  delight  to  his  classical  studies.  Of  .mathe- 
matics he  would  now  learn  no  more  than  was  necessary, 
though,  according  to  the  system  which  then  prevailed  in  the 
University,  he  thus,  considerably  to  his  father's  annoyance, 
shut  himself  out  from  competing  for  the  chancellor's  medal. 
In  his  classical  studies  he  was  privately  assisted  by  his 
brother  Francis,  who  had  boundless  faith  in  the  talents  of 
Julius,  and  was  never  weary  of  writing  essays  for  his  assist- 
ance and  reference.  His  success  in  college  examinations 
led  to  his  election  to  a  Trinity  Fellowship  in  October, 
1818. 

The  following  winter  was  spent  by  Julius  Hare  in  Italy 
with  his  brother  Francis,  who  had  remained  in  the  south 
since  Augustus  left  him  in  the  preceding  spring.  From 
this  time  dates  his  great  love  and  veneration  for  Raphael 

"Where  to  find  a  parallel  for  Raphael  in  the  modern 
world,  I  know  not.  Sophocles,  among  poets,  most  re- 
sembles him.  In  knowledge  of  the  diversities  of  human 
character,  he  comes  nearer  than  any  other  painter  to  him, 
who  is  unapproached  and  unapproachable,  Shakespeare ; 
and  yet  two  worlds,  that  of  Honour  and  that  of  Passion, 
separate  them.  In  exquisiteness  of  art,  Goethe  might  be 
compared  to  him.  But  neither  he  nor  Shakespeare  has 
Raphael's  deep  Christian  feeling.  But  then  there  is  such  a 
peculiar  glow  and  flush  of  beauty  in  his  works :  whitherso- 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  193 

ever  he  comes,  he  sheds  beauty  from  his  wings.  Why  did 
he  die  so  early  ?  Because  morning  cannot  last  till  noon, 
nor  spring  through  summer."  * 

"  In  intellectual  as  in  active  life,  the  still  small  voice 
wherein  speaks  the  true  genius,  '  that  peculiar  sway  of 
nature,  which  (as  Milton  saith)  also  is  God's  working,'  will 
usually  be  preceded  by  the  strong  wind  and  the  earthquake 
and  the  fire,  which  may  rend  the  mountain  and  break  the 
rocks  in  pieces,  but  in  which  there  is  nothing  that  abideth. 
The  poet  will  at  first  try  force  and  endeavour  to  take  Beauty 
by  storm ;  but  if  he  would  succeed,  he  must  assure  himself 
that  she  consents  not  to  be  won  until  she  has  been  wooed 
by  duteous  and  loyal  service.  This  appears  a  simple  and 
easy  lesson;  yet  few  among  the  sons  of  men  have  duly 
apprehended  it,  except  tardily  on  compulsion.  There  may 
indeed  have  been  others,  even  in  modern  times,  who  have 
felt  and  known  these  truths  instinctively  from  their  child- 
hood upwards,  but  I  cannot  name  any  besides  Raphael. 
Of  him  it  may  truly  be  said  that  Beauty  was  his  nurse,  that  he 
had  sucked  at  her  breast,  and  been  dandled  in  her  arms, 
and  been  covered  with  her  kisses,  until  all  her  features  were 
indelibly  written  on  his  mind,  and  her  image  became 
amalgamated,  and  as  it  were,  one  with  its  essence.  From 
his  earliest  sketch  unto  his  last  great  work,  whatever  came 
from  his  pencil,  appears,  so  to  say,  to  have  been  steeped  in 
beauty  :  in  his  imagination,  as  in  the  bright  atmosphere  of  a 
summer  day,  every  object  was  arrayed  in  a  loveliness  at 
once  its  own  and  his  :  for  all  he  gives  is  so  genuine  and 
appropriate,  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  what  is  native 
from  what  is  adventitious.  But  Raphael  had  the  good 
fortune  to  be  born  earlier  in  the  world's  great  year,  when 
the  sun  might  safely  rise  without  a  cloud  :  in  these  autumnal 

•  "  Guesses  at  Truth."    First  Sfries. 
VOL.  I.  O 


194  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

times  one  can  hardly  hope   for  a  fine  day,  unless  it   be 
ushered  in  by  a  misty  morning."  * 

But,  together  with  the  growth  of  his  love  for  Raphael, 
Julius  also  became  converted  to  a  belief  in  the  general 
superiority  of  sculpture  over  painting.  Soon  afterwards 
Augustus,  writing  to  Frederick  Blackstone,  says : — 

"  Julius,  who  was  nearly  as  sceptical  as  yourself  about 
sculpture,  felt  while  he  was  standing  among  the  Townley 
marbles  that  there  was  no  comparison.  The  effect  of  the 
sculpture  was  so  much  stronger  than  that  which  had  been 
produced  by  the  Raphaels,  Leonardos,  and  Guidos,  which 
had  been  exhibited.  He  was  so  far  hurried  away  by  his 
enthusiasm  as  to  kiss  an  arm  of  one  of  the  female  figures, 
to  the  great  astonishment  of  the  unimaginative  beholders, 
who,  perhaps,  would  not  one  of  them  have  given  a  half- 
penny to  kiss  the  finest  arm  in  the  world.  '  Mais  cela  tient 
au  morale,  ou  plutot  k  la  Philosophic.'  " 

During  these  years  of  youth  also  grew  in  the  heart  of 
Julius  that  great  love  with  which  he  always  afterwards 
regarded  "  the  honoured  name  of  William  Wordsworth,"  he 
being  one  of  the  first  of  a  circle  of  young  men  who  upheld 
the  reputation  of  the  new  poet  at  a  time  when  he  was 
greatly  ridiculed,  and  when  ths  influence  of  Scott  and  Byron 
was  supreme. 

On  his  return  from  Italy  Julius  was  persuaded  by  his 
brother  Francis  to  devote  himself  to  the  study  of  law,  and 
for  that  purpose  took  chambers  in  Hare  Court,  Temple. 
But  he  never  was  able  to  give  his  heart  to  legal  studies,  and 

*  "  Guesses  at  Truth."    Second  Series. 


AUGUSTUS  AND   JULIUS   HARE.  195 

continued  his  wide  reading  in  literature  and  philosophy,  of 
which  a  visible  result  was  the  publication,  in  1820,  of  a 
translation  of  "  Sintram,"  which  he  intended  to  follow  by 
the  other  works  of  Fouque\  Lady  Jones  characteristically 
wrote  to  him  at  this  time  her  wish  that  all  his  "  German 
books  were  burnt."  He  replied  : — 

"Jan.,  1820. — As  for  my  German  books,  I  hope  from 
my  heart  that  the  day  will  never  arrive  when  I  shall  be 
induced  to  burn  them,  for  I  am  convinced  that  I  never 
shall  do  so,  unless  I  have  first  become  a  base  slave  of 
Mammon,  and  a  mere  vile  lump  of  selfishness.  I  shall  never 
be  able  to  repay  a  hundredth  part  of  the  obligation  I  am 
under  to  them,  even  though  I  were  to  shed  every  drop  of 
my  blood  in  defence  of  their  liberties.  For  to  them  I  owe 
the  best  of  all  my  knowledge,  and  if  they  have  not  purified 
my  heart,  the  fault  is  my  own.  Above  all,  to  them  I  owe 
my  ability  to  believe  in  Christianity  with  a  much  more 
implicit  and  intelligent  faith  than  I  otherwise  should  have 
been  able  to  have  done ;  for  without  them  I  should  only 
have  saved  myself  from  dreary  suspicions,  by  a  refusal  to 
allow  my  heart  to  follow  my  head,  and  by  a  self-willed 
determination  to  believe  whether  my  reason  approved  of 
my  belief  or  not.  The  question  has  so  often  been  a  subject 
of  discussion,  that  I  have  determined,  once  for  all,  to  state 
my  reasons  for  remaining  firm  in  my  opinion." 

To  his  extensive  acquaintance  with  German  thought  and 
German  thinkers  is  due  the  German  tone  which  pervades 
many  of  the  "  Guesses  at  Truth,"  furnished  by  Julius  to  the 
volumes  which  appeared  in  1827.  "Its  authors,  it  has 
been  said,  suppose  truth  to  be  mere  guess-work.  An 


196  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

observation  more  curiously  inapplicable  to  the  spirit  and 
character  of  both  brothers  was  certainly  never  hazarded. 
Because  they  were  so  confident  that  truth  is  fixed  and 
eternal — that  it  is  not  the  creature  of  man's  notions  and 
speculations — that  a  man  must  seek  for  it  as  hid  treasure, 
not  refer  it  to  his  own  narrow  rules  of  judgment — therefore 
they  thought  it  an  exercise  useful  in  itself,  certain  of  reward, 
to  trace  the  vestiges  of  it  in  every  direction,  to  grasp  even 
the  skirts  of  its  garment,  and  if  they  missed  it,  still  to  testify 
that  it  was  ready  to  declare  itself  to  more  faithful  inquiries. 
They  believed  that  there  was  a  ladder  set  up  on  earth 
and  reaching  to  heaven ;  that  the  voice  of  God  may  be 
heard  in  the  calm  midnight,  nay,  even  in  the  open  day,  by 
those  who  are  on  the  lowest  step  of  this  ladder,  who  have 
only  a  bed  of  earth,  with  a  stone  for  their  pillow,  if  they  will 
reverently  apply  their  ears  to  listen,  and  ask  to  have  it 
distinguished  from  the  noises  of  which  the  air  is  full,  and 
which  try  to  drown  or  mock  it.  These  Guesses  have 
cherished  this  conviction  in  the  hearts  of  many  who  needed 
it,  and  who  would  have  suffered  infinite  loss  if  they  had 
been  without  it.  And  they  have  led  not  a  few  to  look 
further  still ;  to  ask  whether  there  is  not  a  Centre  of  all 
God's  revelations,  one  in  whom  He  created  the  world,  one 
in  whom  He  has  enlightened  men,  one  in  whom  He  has 
made  himself  perfectly  known.  The  words,  '  I  am  the 
Way,  and  the  Truth,  and  the  Life,'  have  come  to  them  as 
at  once  the  encouragement  and  the  result  of  their  guesses. 
If  this  result  is  not  what  our  doctors  of  the  law,  our  masters 
in  Israel  desire,  it  may,  nevertheless,  be  one  which  He  does 
not  disapprove  who  in  every  part  of  nature,  and  in  every 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS    HARE.  197 

human  relation,  found  parables  of  his  kingdom,  and  openings 
through  which  his  disciples  might  have  glimpses  of  it."  * 

Julius's  career  as  a  lawyer  was  of  short  duration,  and 
most  gladly  did  he  welcome  the  change  when,  in  1822,  his 
friend  Whewell,  already  a  tutor  of  Trinity,  conveyed  to  him 
the  offer  of  a  classical  tutorship  in  his  own  college.  He  at 
once  returned  to  Cambridge  and  took  possession  of  delight- 
ful rooms  in  the  tower  at  the  back  of  Trinity,  looking  down 
its  beautiful  lime  avenue — rooms  where  he  collected  the 
nucleus  of  that  library  which  afterwards  rendered  his  country 
home  so  remarkable  amongst  English  rectories,  and  where 
he  resided  throughout  the  next  ten  years,  to  which  he  owed, 
as  he  himself  described  it,  "  the  building  up  of  his  mind." 

At  Cambridge  Julius  Hare  re-united  in  a  great  measure 
the  large  circle  of  friends  amid  whom  his  undergraduate  life 
had  been  passed — Sedgewick,  Whewell,  Thirlwall,  Worsley 
(whom  he  was  wont  to  call  "  the  brother  of  his  heart "), 
and,  for  a  rime,  Digby,  the  author  of  the  "  Broad  Stone  of 
Honour,"  "  that  noble  manual  for  gentlemen,  that  volume  " 
(wrote  Julius)  "  which,  had  I  a  son,  I  would  place  in  his 
hands,  charging  him,  though  such  prompting  words  would 
be  needless,  to  love  it  next  to  his  Bible."  Among  his 
pupils  also  were  three  young  men  who  were  among  the 
intimate  friends  of  his  later  life,  John  Sterling,  Frederick 
Maurice,  and  Richard  Cavendish. 

The  pupils  who  attended  Julius  Hare's  lectures  have  a 

vivid  recollection  of  their  interest.     "  While  in  form  he  was 

adapting  himself  exactly  to  the  practice  of  English  colleges," 

wrote  one  of  them,  "  in  spirit  he  was  following  the  course 

*  Preface  to  Hare's  Charges.     1843—46. 


1 98  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

which  a  cultivated  man,  thoroughly  in  earnest  to  give  his 
pupils  the  advantage  of  his  cultivation,  and  not  ambitious 
of  displaying  himself,  would  fall  into."  "When  we  were 
reading  the  Gorgias  of  Plato,  his  anxiety  seemed  to  be  that 
Plato  should  explain  himself  to  us,  and  should  help  to 
explain  us  to  ourselves.  Whatever  he  could  do  to  further 
this  end  by  bringing  his  reading  and  scholarship  to  bear 
upon  the  illustration  of  the  text,  by  throwing  out  hints  as  to 
the  course  the  dialogue  was  taking,  by  exhibiting  his  own 
fervent  interest  in  Plato,  and  his  belief  of  the  high  purpose 
he  was  aiming  at,  he  did.  But  to  give  us  second-hand 
reports,  though  they  were  ever  so  excellent — to  save  us  the 
trouble  of  thinking — to  supply  us  with  a  moral,  instead  of 
showing  us  how  we  might  find  it,  not  only  in  the  book,  but 
in  our  own  hearts — this  was  clearly  not  his  intention."  * 

Amid  his  collegiate  duties,  Julius  Hare  found  time  to 
unite  with  his  friend  Thirlwall  in  the  vast  labour  of  trans- 
lating Niebuhr's  '  History  of  Rome,'  and  editing  it  with 
fresh  notes  from  his  own  reading.  This  work  brought  down 
upon  its  author,  and  by  implication  upon  its  translators,  a 
charge  of  scepticism  as  to  secular  history  which  would 
tend  to  encourage  a  similar  feeling  in  regard  to  sacred 
history.  This  led  Julius  to  publish  (1829)  his  '  Vindication 
of  Niebuhr,'  the  first  of  a  long  series  of  vindications  which 
in  later  life  he  used  playfully  to  say  he  should  one  day 
collect  and  publish  in  one  volume,  under  the  title  of 
'  Vindiciae  Harianae,'  or  the  '  Hare  with  many  Friends.' 
"  Any  attack  on  Luther,  Niebuhr,  Bunsen,  Coleridge,  would 
have  called  forth  his  sword  from  its  scabbard  under  much 
*  Preface  to  Hare's  Charges.  1856. 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS   HARE.  199 


less  provocation  than  was  actually  given  in  the  respective 
cases.  Indeed,  in  some  of  these  instances  we  almost 
wonder  at  the  amount  of  energy  and  learning  spent  against 
charges  which  hardly  seemed  sufficient,  either  in  quality  or 
quantity,  to  need  any  refutation  at  all.  But  even  when  the 
object  of  attack  was  his  dearest  friend,  it  was  an  outraged 
sense  not  so  much  of  private  partiality  as  of  public  justice 
that  fired  the  train  ;  and  in  one  remarkable  instance  in  his 
later  life  (that  of  the  Hampden  controversy)  he  came  for- 
ward in  behalf  of  an  entire  stranger." 

"  The  scholarship  of  Julius  Hare  was  of  a  kind  which 
penetrated  the  whole  frame  of  his  mind.  Like  all  English 
scholarships,  it  was  built  upon  a  classical  basis,  and  the 
effect  of  this,  enlarged  as  it  was  by  the  widest  view  of  the 
ancient  writers,  never  left  him.  Greece  and  Rome  were 
always  present  to  his  mind;  and  when  he  afterwards 
endeavoured  to  arouse  the  clergy  of  Sussex  by  the  strains  of 
Alcaeus,  it  was  only  one  instance  out  of  many  in  which  his 
deep  delight  in  classical  antiquity  found  its  vent  in  the 
common  occasions  of  life.  To  the  older  school  of  English 
elegant  scholarship  he  hardly  belonged,  but  in  a  profound 
and  philosophical  knowledge  of  the  learned  languages  he 
was  probably  second  to  none,  even  in  that  brilliant  age  of 
his  Cambridge  contemporaries  ;  and  he  was  one  of  the  first 
examples  that  England  has  seen,  not  merely  of  a  scholar, 
but  of  a  '  philologer,'  of  one  who  studied  language  not  by 
isolated  rules  but  by  general  laws. 

"This  precision  of  scholarship  showed  itself  in  a  form 
which  is  perhaps,  to  many,  one  of  the  chief  associations 
connected  with  his  name.  Almost  any  one  who  has  ever 


200  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

heard  of  Julius  Hare's  writings  has  heard  of  his  strange 
spelling.  Every  one  knows  that  his  sermons  were  not 
'  preached  '  like  those  of  ordinary  mortals,  but  '  preacht ; ' 
that  his  books  were  not  '  published,'  but  '  publisht.'  It  is 
but  due  to  his  memory  to  remind  our  readers  that  it  was 
not,  as  most  people  suppose,  an  arbitrary  fancy,  but  a 
deliberate  conviction,  founded  on  undoubted  facts  in  the 
English  language,  which  dictated  his  deviation  from  ordi- 
nary practice.  His  own  statement  of  his  principle  is  con- 
tained in  a  valuable  and  interesting  essay  on  the  subject  in 
the  Philological  Museum ;  and  it  was  maintained  in  the 
first  instance  not  only  by  himself,  but  by  his  two  illustrious 
colleagues  at  Cambridge.  But  Bishop  Thirlwall  openly 
abandoned  it  in  his  history  of  Greece,  and  has  never  since 
recurred  to  it ;  and  Dr.  Whewell  confined  it  to  his  occa- 
sional efforts  in  verse.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  man 
that  Hare  alone  persevered  to  the  end ;  whether  it  were  a 
hymn-book  for  his  parish  church  or  a  monumental  tablet,  a 
German  novel  or  a  grave  discourse  on  the  highest  matters 
of  Church  and  State,  he  would  never  abandon  what  he 
considered  the  true  standard  of  correct  scholarship,  or 
countenance  the  anomalies  of  popular  practice.  We  may 
justly  smile  at  the  excess  to  which  this  pertinacity  was 
carried ;  but  it  was  an  index  of  that  unwearied  diligence,  of 
that  conscientious  stickling  for  truth  which  honourably 
distinguished  him  amongst  his  contemporaries ;  it  was  an 
index  also,  as  we  may  fairly  allow,  of  that  curious  disregard 
lor  congruity  which,  more  than  any  other  cause,  marred  his 
usefulness  in  life." 

"  The  scholarship  of  Julius  Hare  was  remarkable  for  its 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS   HARE. 


combination  with  his  general  learning.  Learning  as  an 
acquisition  is  not  perhaps  uncommon ;  but  as  an  available  pos- 
session it  is  a  very  rare  gift.  It  is  easy  to  accumulate  know- 
ledge ;  but  it  is  not  easy  to  digest,  to  master,  to  reproduce 
it.  This,  however,  was  certainly  accomplished  in  his  case."  * 

As  our  story  will  for  many  years  be  more  connected  with 
the  life  of  Augustus  than  with  that  of  Julius  Hare,  it  may 
be  well  to  look  forward  here  for  a  few  years. 

On  Easter  Sunday,  1826,  Julius  was  ordained  deacon  in 
Wells  Cathedral  by  Bishop  Law,  and  on  the  following 
Trinity  Sunday  was  ordained  priest,  at  St.  George's, 
Hanover  Square,  by  Sparke,  Bishop  of  Ely.  His  first 
university  sermon,  afterwards  published  under  the  title  of 
the  "  Children  of  Light,"  was  preached  on  Advent  Sunday, 
1828.  This  sermon  assumed  that  his  hearers  were  bom  in 
light,  and  that  if  they  walked  in  darkness,  that  darkness 
was  caused  by  the  sin  which  had  broken  up  the  even 
tenour  of  the  true  life  which  was  intended,  and  that  their 
true  conversion  would  be  simply  the  restoration  of  the 
light,  which  was  the  guide  of  childhood.  His  next  well- 
known  sermon,  the  "  Law  of  Self-Sacrifice,"  was  preached 
in  Trinity  Chapel  at  the  Commemoration  of  1829,  an 
earnest  protest  against  the  selfish  theory  of  religion.  It  at 
once  announces  the  opposite  law  as  the  one  which  binds 
together  all  things  in  earth  and  heaven,  as  that  which 
affords  the  only  explanation  of  all  the  great  facts  of  his- 
tory, of  all  that  has  produced  any  real  effect  upon  mankind 
in  poetry,  art,  science.  Selfishness  he  traces,  indeed, 
e\  erywhere :  but  as  the  disturbing,  destructive  force  ;  trie 
*  Quarterly  Rei-irw,  cxciii. 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


enemy  of  the  order  of  the  world,  not  its  principle ;  that 
which  the  Son  of  God  by  His  Sacrifice  came  to  subvert, 
because  He  came  to  renew  and  restore  all  things.  Theology 
is  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  necessary  climax  as  well  as  the 
necessary  foundation  of  all  his  other  thoughts ;  he  does  not 
want  to  reconcile  them  with  it ;  it  is  the  reconciliation  of 
them.  The  sermon  on  "  The  Sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost  " 
is  in  strict  harmony  with  these,  inasmuch  as  it  connects  the 
common  daily  life  of  the  English  student  in  the  nineteenth 
century  with  the  principles  set  forth  in  Scripture,  even  with 
the  most  awful  sentences  in  it.  These  are  not  used  to 
produce  a  fearful  impression  upon  the  nerves,  but  to  keep 
the  conscience  alive  to  its  continued  peril,  as  well  as  to  its 
mighty  treasures  and  responsibilities — to  the  truth,  that  all 
true  and  righteous  deeds,  by  whomsoever  they  are  enacted, 
are  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  now  as  in  other  days.* 

Until  these  Cambridge  sermons  were  preached,  Tutors  and 
Fellows  alike  felt  sure  that  no  undergraduate  could  be 
induced  to  sit  through  discourses  of  such  prodigious  length, 
yet  they  were  not  only  listened  to  with  patience,  but  not 
more  than  two  days  after  the  preaching  of  the  first  sermon, 
a  petition  for  its  publication  was  sent  to  Julius  Hare,  more 
numerously  signed  than  any  that  had  been  known  for 
years.  After  publication,  however,  these  sermons  scarcely 
met  with  the  success  which  was  anticipated.  Many  would 
perhaps  have  been  more  impressed  by  them  if  they  had  not 
taken  advantage  of  their  peculiarities — of  the  quaint  ex- 
pressions they  contained,  to  turn  aside;  these  seemed  to 
afford  a  handle  to  such  as  were  glad  of  one,  to  take  hold  of 
•  See  Preface  to  Hare's  Charges,  1843 — 46. 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  203 

as  a  diversion  from  the  serious  impression  they  could  not 
otherwise  avoid. 

The  chief  external  pleasures  of  Julius  Hare's  Cambridge 
life  were  derived  from  his  intimacy  with  the  family  of  Sir 
John  Malcolm,  who  was  at  that  time  residing  at  Hyde 
Hall,  in  its  immediate  neighbourhood.  In  1826,  he  stayed 
for  a  long  time  in  their  house  to  recruit,  after  a  severe 
attack  of  illness.  Of  this  home  he  wrote  : — 

"  The  house,  in  which,  above  all  others  I  have  ever  been 
an  inmate  in,  the  life  and  spirit  and  joy  of  conversation 
were  the  most  intense,  is  a  house  in  which  I  hardly  ever 
heard  an  evil  word  uttered  against  any  one.  The  genial 
heart  of  cordial  sympathy  with  which  its  illustrious  master 
sought  out  the  good  side  in  every  person  and  thing,  and 
which  has  found  an  inadequate  expression  in  his  delightful 
1  Sketches  of  Persia,'  seemed  to  communicate  itself  to  all 
the  members  of  his  family,  and  operated  as  a  charm  even 
upon  his  visitors.  For  this  reason  was  the  pleasure  so  pure 
and  healthy  and  unmixed;  whereas  spiteful  thoughts, 
although  they  may  stimulate  and  gratify  our  sicklier  and 
more  vicious  tastes,  always  leave  a  bitter  relish  behind." 

Of  Sir  John  Malcolm  himself  he  afterwards  spoke  as — 

"  The  illustrious  friend,  who  was  always  so  kind,  always  so 
generous,  always  so  indulgent  to  the  weaknesses  of  others, 
while  he  was  endeavouring  to  make  them  better  than  they 
were — he  who  was  unwearied  in  acts  of  benevolence,  ever 
aiming  at  the  greatest,  but  never  thinking  the  least  beneath 
his  notice ;  who  could  descend,  without  feeling  that  he  sank, 
from  the  command  of  armies  and  the  government  of  an 
empire,  to  become  a  peacemaker  in  village  quarrels — he, 


204  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

in  whom  dignity  was  so  gentle,  and  wisdom  so  playful,  and 
whose  laurelled  head  was  girt  with  a  chaplet  of  all  the 
domestic  affections, — the  soldier,  statesman,  patriot." 

In  the  family  of  Sir  John  Malcolm,  lived  at  this  time,  as 
governess,  a  Miss  Mary  Manning,  with  whom  Julius  formed 
a  friendship  of  mingled  love  and  reverence,  which  was  as 
great  a  feature  of  his  later  years  as  that  of  Cowper  with 
Mrs.  Unwin.  Of  very  humble  origin,  she  owed  her  ad- 
mirable education  to  the  generous  kindness  of  Elizabeth, 
Duchess  of  Buccleugh,  in  whose  family  her  father  was  a 
factor.  Lady  Malcolm  was  greatly  attached  to  her,  and  as 
she  was  always  treated  rather  as  an  honoured  guest  than 
an  inferior,  she  had  opportunities  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  many  remarkable  persons  who  visited  the  house. 
Having  great  observation  and  a  retentive  memory,  she 
amassed  by  this  means  an  extraordinary  amount  of  general 
information,  which  she  had  the  gift  of  imparting  to  others  in 
the  most  lively  and  agreeable  manner.  Few  persons  came 
within  her  influence  without  being  attracted  by  her ;  by 
most  of  the  friends  of  the  family  she  was  almost  adored ; 
clever  Cambridge  professors  were  wont  to  seek  her  society, 
and  even  to  ask  her  advice  on  an  astonishing  variety  of 
subjects,  and  her  unfailing  fund  of  anecdote  and  quiet  wit 
made  her  equally  charming  to  her  younger  hearers.  In  his 
later  life  many  people  believed  that  Julius  Hare  had  been 
engaged  in  his  youth  to  Ma-man,  as  she  was  playfully 
called ;  but  this  was  never  the  case. 

The  Cambridge  vacations  of  Julius  Hare  were  frequently 
passed  at  Bodryddan,  in  the  society  of  his  cousins,  the 
daughters  of  the  Dean  of  St.  Asaph.  Lady  Jones  had 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS   HARE.  205 

always  dreaded  that  Augustus  would  fall  in  love  with  the 
second  daughter,  Anna  Maria,  who,  while  still  quite  young, 
had  returned  to  her  father's  house  as  the  widow  of  Colonel 
Dashwood,  and  whose  interest  in  poetry,  art,  and  Italian 
and  German  literature  made  her  conversation  exceedingly 
attractive  to  both  the  brothers.  Julius,  however,  was 
always  her  favourite  cousin,  and  she  was  quite  devoted  to 
him.  In  1828,  he  became  engaged  to  her,  but  without  any 
prospect  of  marriage,  until  he  should  obtain  a  living.  But 
the  engagement  was  in  itself  a  great  source  of  delight  to 
him,  and  for  some  years  he  spent  as  much  time  as  possible 
at  Bodryddan,  where  Mrs.  Dashwood  continued  to  live 
with  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Yonge,  after  Dean  Shipley's  death  in 
1825.  This  charming  family-home  is  described  in  a  poem 
by  Leigh  Hunt : — 

41  Their  very  house  was  fairy.    None 
Might  find  it,  without  favour  won 
For  some  great  zeal,  like  errant  knight, 
Or  want  or  sorrow's  holy  right ; 
And  then  they  reach'd  it  by  long  rounds 
Of  lanes  between  thick  pastoral  grounds 
Nest-like,  and  alleys  of  old  trees, 
Until  at  last,  in  lawny  ease, 
Down  by  a  garden  and  its  fountains, 
In  the  ken  of  mild  blue  mountains, 
Rose,  as  if  exempt  from  death, 
Its  many-centuried  household  breath. 
The  stone-cut  arms  above  the  door 
Were  such  as  earliest  chieftains  bore, 
Of  simple  gear,  long  kid  aside  ; 
And  low  it  was,  and  warm,  and  wide,— 
A  home  to  love,  from  sire  to  son, 
By  white-grown  servants  waited  on. 
Here,  a  door  opening,  breathed  of  bowers, 
Of  ladies  who  lead  lives  of  flowers ; 


206  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

There,  walls  were  books,  and  the  sweet-witch, 
Painting,  had  there  the  rooms  made  rich 
With  knights,  and  dames,  and  loving  eyes 
Of  heaven-gone  kindred,  sweet  and  wise ; 
Of  bishops,  gentle  as  their  lawn, 
And  sires,  whose  talk  was  one  May-dawn. 
Last,  on  the  roof,  a  clock's  old  grace, 
Look'd  forth,  like  some  enchanted  face 
That  never  slept,  but  in  the  night 
Dinted  the  air  with  thoughtful  might 
Of  sudden  tongue,  which  seem'd  to  siy, 
•  The  stars  are  firm,  and  hold  their  sway.'  ** 


V. 

CHANGES. 

"  God  writes  straight  on  crooked  lines." 

Spanish  Proverb. 

"Circumstance,  that  unspiritual   God,  was    then  a  most 
fruitful  source  of  spirituality." — DIGBY. 

TT  was  in  returning  from  Scotland  in  1818,  that  Augustus 
Hare,  while  visiting  the  Hebers  at  Hodnet,  made  his 
first  acquaintance  with  Miss  Leycester.  He  was  at  Hodnet 
on  her  birthday  (November  22).  On  the  preceding  day 
the  conversation  had  turned  upon  Italy — a  subject  which 
always  called  forth  the  full  powers  of  his  enthusiasm — and 
she  had  playfully  asked  him  to  write  an  ode  upon  it  In 
the  night  hours  he  wrote,  and  on  the  following  morning 
presented  her  with,  his  Ode  to  Italy. 

"  Strike  the  loud  harp,  let  the  prelude  be, 

Italy— Italy ! 
That  chord  again,  again  that  note  of  glee — 

Italy— Italy ! 

Italia,  Italia !  the  name  my  bosom  warmeth, 
Italia !  Italia  !  the  very  sound  it  charmeth — 
High  thoughts  of  self-devotions, 
Compassionate  emotions, 
Soul-stirring  recollections, 
Wkh  hopes,  their  bright  reflections, 


208  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Rush  to  my  troubled  heart  at  thought  of  thee, 
My  own  illustrious,  injur'd  Italy. 

Dear  land  of  woody  mountains, 

And  consecrated  fountains, 
Within  whose  rocky  heav'n-aspiring  pale 

Beauty  has  fix'd  a  dwelling, 

All  others  so  excelling, 
To  paint  it  right,  thy  own  sweet  tongue  would  fail, 

Hail  to  thee !    Hail ! 

How  rich  art  thou  in  groves  and  streamlets  clear  I 
And  those  broad  pines  within  the  sunniest  glade 

So  reigning  through  the  year, 
Within  the  hallow'd  circle  of  their  shade 

No  sunbeam  may  appear. 
Thy  double  sea  too,  with  its  glittering  blue, 

How  beauteous  ! — but  I  may  not  dwell 

On  charms,  which  decking  thee  too  well, 
Allur'd  the  spoiler — let  me  fix  my  ken 

Rather  upon  thy  godlike  men, 
The  good,  the  wise,  the  valiant,  and  the  free, 
On  memory's  pillar  tow'ring  gloriously, 
A  trophy  rais'd  on  high  upon  thy  strand, 

That  every  race  in  every  clime 

May  mark  and  understand, 
What  memorable  courses  may  be  run, 
What  and  how  precious  treasures  may  be  won, 
From  time, 

In  spite  of  chance, 

And  worser  ignorance, 
If  men  be  ruled  by  virtue's  fix'd  decree, 
And  wisdom  hold  unquestion'd  mastery. 

What  art  thou  now  ? — Alas  !  alas ! 

Woe,  woe ! 
That  strength  and  virtue  thus  should  pass 

From  man  below — 
That  so  divine,  so  beautiful  a  maid 
Should  in  the  withering  grave  be  laid 
As  one  that — Hush  !  nor  dare  with  ominous  breath, 

To  syllable  the  name  of  Death ; 


CHANGES.  209 

The  fool  alone  and  unbeliever  weepeth— 

We  know  she  only  sleepeth — 
And  from  the  dust, 

At  the  end  of  her  correction, 
Truth  hath  decreed  her  glorious  resurrection  : 

She  shall  arise,  she  must  : 
Nor  can  it  be  that  wickedness  hath  power 
To  undermine  and  topple  down  the  tower 

Of  virtue's  edifice : 
And  yet  that  vice 
Should  be  allowed  on  sacred  ground  to  plant 

A  rock  of  adamant. 

But  who  may  bide  the  dazzling  radiancy, 

When  first  the  royal  dame  awaking 
Darteth  around  her  keen  indignant  eye — 

When  first  her  firm  spear  shaking, 
Fixing  her  foot  on  earth,  her  looks  on  sky, 
She  standeth  like  the  archangel,  prompt  to  vanquish, 

Yet  still  imploring  succour  from  on  high  ! 

0  days  of  wearying  hope  and  grievous  anguish, 

When  will  ye  end  ? 
Until  that  end  be  come,  until  I  hear 

The  Alps  their  mighty  voices  blend 
To  swell  and  echo  back  the  sound  most  dear 
To  patriot  hearts,  the  cry  of  Liberty — 

1  must  live  on :  but  when  the  mighty  queen, 
As  erst  is  canopied  with  Freedom's  sheen, 
When  I  have  prest  with  salutation  meet, 
And  reverent  love  to  kiss  her  honour'd  feet, 

I  then  may  die — 
Die,  how  well  satisfied  !— 
Conscious  that  I  have  watch'd  the  second  birth 
Of  the  most  beauteous  being  upon  earth — 

Conscious  beside 

That  no  more  glorious  sight  can  here  be  giv'n; 
Serener  visions  are  reserv'd  for  Heav'n."* 

*  The  poem  given  here,  printed  from  the  original  MS.  of  Augustus 
Hare,  differs  in  many  respects  from  that  already  published,  as  altered 
by  hi-  brother  Julius. 

VOL.  I.  P 


210  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

The  interest  in  Maria  Leycester  which  was  aroused  in 
Augustus  Hare  during  this  visit  was  afterwards  kept  awake 
by  tne  letters  of  his  friend  Stow,  and  the  share  which  he 
had  in  their  joys  and  sorrows. 

The  summer  of  1819  was  passed  by  Augustus  Hare  at 
the  English  lakes.  Thence  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Frederick 
Blackstone : — 

"  Of  the  Lakes  I  will  only  say  that  I  found  Southey  more 
egotistical,  less  identified  with  his  family,  and  more  reflective 
than  I  expected.  By  the  way,  I  am  surprised  you  should 
represent  him  as  inimical  to  discussion,  for  into  one  I  was 
betrayed  by  him  unawares,  and  into  another  he  attempted 
to  lead  me,  challenging  and  almost  pulling  me  to  the  field. 
At  first  I  thought  his  manner  cold,  but  it  gradually  thawed, 
and  before  we  parted  he  seemed  to  begin  to  take  consider- 
able interest  about  me.  Wordsworth  I  found  much  greater 
in  the  common  concerns  of  life  than  I  had  anticipated.  He 
is  as  perfect  an  instance  in  his  way  of  the  connection  between 
genius  and  kind-heartedness  as  Mr.  Scott  is,  of  whom  you 
know  my  admiration ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  observe  two 
men  of  great  powers,  who  are  so  remarkably  different  in 
many  respects,  agreeing  and  reflecting  each  other's  character 
in  this." 

On  November  19  he  wrote  to  Lady  Jones  : — 

"  I  left  Edinburgh  by  way  of  Selkirk  and  Melrose, 
stopping  by  the  way  to  see  Walter  Scott.  He  lives  in  a 
cottage  transmogrified  by  additions  into  a  sort  of  castle,  on 
the  road  between  these  two  places.  His  family  consists  of 
a  silly  little  Frenchwoman — his  wife,  two  stout  lassies  of 
daughters  under  twenty,  the  eldest  of  whom  is  said  to  be  a 


CHANGES.  2  1 1 

very  extraordinary  person,  and  a  great  favourite  with  her 
father,  and  an  enormous  staghound,  with  three  or  four  other 
dogs  of  various  kinds  as  his  satellites.  Walter  Scott  him- 
self looks  like  a  very  stout,  good-humoured  shepherd ;  and 
if  it  be  a  merit  in  a  poet  not  to  be  '  all-poet,'  he  possesses 
it  in  a  very  high  degree.  He  kept  me  all  day  with  him, 
and  in  the  evening  had  a  large  party  of  borderers  to  dinner, 
which  I  regretted,  as  I  would  rather  have  seen  him  merely 
with  his  family.  But  in  the  morning  he  was  very  delightful ; 
we  walked  together  round  his  little  property,  and  the  interest 
he  took  in  his  plantations,  fences,  and  crops — reaped,  sow- 
ing, and  to  be  sown — reminded  me  completely  of  Worting. 
At  the  same  time  he  has  not  the  affectation  of  dropping  the 
author  altogether,  for  in  pointing  out  the  various  objects 
around  to  me  he  did  not  omit  to  mention  the  lands  of 
Deloraine,  '  which,'  he  added  with  a  smile, '  you  may  per- 
haps have  heard  of.'  In  the  same  way,  many  of  his  beasts 
are  named  after  persons  in  his  works — his  old  mare  is 
Sybil  Grey.  He  talked  of  the  tales  and  novels  exactly  as  an 
indifferent  person  would  have  done,  except  that  he  praised 
them  less  and  alluded  to  them  more.  He  seemed  extremely 
attached  to  Reginald  Heber,  and  indeed  to  everything  else 
except  Bonaparte  and  a  few  Scotch  Whigs,  for  never  did 
I  meet  a  man  so  overflowing  with  the  milk  of  human 
kindness." 

In  the  summer  of  1820  Augustus  was  selected  as 
one  of  the  School  Examiners  at  Oxford,  and  during  this 
time  "  Augustus  Hare  plucked  Cicero  Rabbit,"  which 
caused  great  amusement  to  the  University.  "  My  work 
began  on  Monday,"  he  wrote  to  F.  Blackstone ;  "  I  was 
extremely  frightened  the  first  day,  and  though  my  spirits 
gradually  increased,  it  was  long  before  I  ventured  on  a  viva- 


212  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

voce  appearance  in  Logic.  I  also  find  great  difficulty  from 
being  out  of  practice  in  minutiae  of  the  two  grammars. 
Things  which  I  have  been  accustomed  to  take  for  granted 
till  I  have  forgotten  the  reason  why  they  should  be  so,  are 
denied,  and  the  unexpectedness  of  the  answer  has  more 
than  once  silenced  me,  and  made  me  doubt  the  accuracy  of 
my  own  memory.  So  much  easier  is  it  to  say  what  is  right 
than  to  confute  what  is  wrong." 

In  1822  Augustus  Hare  was  after  a  manner  brought  into 
public  notice  by  his  "  Letter  to  Sandford,"  to  repel  an  attack 
upon  Oxford  in  the  Edinburgh  Review.  In  the  summer  of 
that  year  he  again  visited  Southey  and  Wordsworth  at  the 
English  lakes.  In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  he  succeeded 
to  the  Logical  Tutorship  at  New  College,  with  a  stipend  of 
^100  a  year,  upon  which  he  resigned,  on  his  thirtieth  birth- 
day ;£ioo  of  the  ;£i2o  he  had  annually  received  from 
Lady  Jones,  "  wishing  to  begin  a  new  decade  with  an  act  of 
justice  to  her  for  the  thousand  acts  of  generosity  he  had 
received  from  her."  In  December  of  the  same  year  he  was 
recommended  by  Reginald  Heber  as  the  successor  of  Gif- 
ford  in  the  editorship  of  the  Quarterly  Review  ;  but,  though 
strongly  supported,  withdrew  in  favour  of  Coleridge. 

In  1824  he  published  a  defence  of  the  Gospel  narrative 
of  the  Resurrection,  under  the  title  of  "  A  Layman's  Letters 
to  the  Author  of  the  '  Trial  of  the  Witnesses.' "  "  To  this 
publication  his  brother  Julius  contributed  the  fourth  letter, 
in  which,  with  his  wider  knowledge  of  German  theological 
literature,  he  fought  the  battle  on  the  ground  which  the 
Rationalists  had  chosen.  The  rest  of  the  book  was  a  terse, 


CHANGES.  213 

vigorous  answer  to  the  more  vulgar  form  of  denial  which 
was  then  represented  by  Taylor,  and  Hone,  and  Carlile, 
and  this  was  entirely  the  work  of  Augustus.  Those  who 
know  the  clear,  bold  English  of  the  Alton  sermons,  and 
the  epigrammatic  point  of  most  of  the  Guesses  which  came 
from  his  pen,  can  form  some  estimate  of  the  effective  skill 
with  which  those  weapons  were  employed  by  him.  Dif- 
ferent as  the  details  of  the  strategy  of  the  enemy  may  be 
now,  those  who  wish  to  answer  M.  Kenan's  version  of  the 
Resurrection,  so  as  to  gain  the  ear  of  acute  but  half-taught 
men,  will  not  find  it  lost  labour  to  turn  to  the  '  Layman's 
Letters.'  "* 

Augustus  Hare  was  now  much  happier  in  his  life  at 
New  College,  where  his  romantic  chivalrous  disposition,  and 
the  interest  which  he  threw  into  all  his  instructions, 
endeared  him  to  his  pupils,  while  his  peculiarities  of  manner 
never  failed  to  amuse  and  attract  attention.  "  He  was  very 
eccentric,"  is  the  remark  of  almost  all  who  knew  him  at  this 
time.  If  excited  in  conversation  he  would  spring  up  in 
the  midst  of  his  talk,  twirl  himself  rapidly  round  three 
times,  and  sit  down  again  without  pausing  in  what  he  was 
saying,  as  if  some  external  action  was  necessary  to  let  off 
the  force  of  his  excitement.  After  dinner,  at  the  houses 
of  his  intimate  friends  he  would  "  rush  up  and  down  the 
drawing  room  in  the  vehemence  of  his  spirits,  and  then  cast 
himself  upon  a  sofa,  and  throw  up  his  legs  in  the  air."t  Of 
this  time  are  the  following  letters : — 

*  Memoir  of  Archdeacon  Hare,  prefixed  to  the  "  Guesses  at  Truth," 
ed.  1864. 

t  Letter  from  Archdeacon  Randall. 


214  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

AUGUSTUS  HARE  to  LADY  JONES. 

"November  17,  1823. — Writing  on  my  birthday,  I  can 
only  say,  what  a  change  since  last  November  in  all  my 
prospects !  and  how  entirely,  under  God,  am  I  indebted  to 
you  for  it !  May  He  who  has  given  you  the  means  and  the 
heart  to  be  liberal  reward  you  for  it.  He  alone  can,  by 
enabling  you  to  see  in  this  world  the  happiness  which  your 
hand  has  planted  for  me,  blossoming  and  bearing  fruit,  and 
hereafter  by  giving  you  such  good  things  as  we  can  neither 
conceive  or  ask  for." 

LADY  JONES  to  AUGUSTUS  HARE. 

March  18,  1824. — You  will  readily  believe,  my  dear 
Augustus,  how  severe  a  blow  my  heart  has  received  by  the 
sudden  death  of  my  beloved  Dowager  Spencer.  I  had  a 
note  from  her  written  at  eight  yesterday  evening,  so  delighted 
with  Lord  Althorp's  approaching  marriage  with  Miss  Ack- 
lom.  She  had  complained  of  a  cold,  but  said  she  should  go 
to  Lady  Clermont's  this  evening,  so  could  not  come  to  meet 
Sloper  at  my  house.  It  seems  she  slept  well  as  usual,  and 
was  getting  up  at  eight  o'clock,  had  walked  from  her  bed  to 
the  fire,  said  '  Oh  ! '  and  sat  down  in  her  chair,  and  instantly 
expired.  A  most  blessed  end  for  such  a  life.  The  loss  is 
to  the  survivors,  and  not  even  the  firm  persuasion  that  you 
and  I  have  of  a  blessed  hereafter  can  prevent  heartache  on 
such  trials,  so  selfish  and  inconsistent  are  our  feelings  !  I 
lose  one  of  the  very  few  strong  ties  that  still  held  me  to  this 
world,  and  'tis  a  most  merciful  dispensation  that  these  trials 
gradually  wean  us  from  a  world  which  in  the  course  of 
nature  I  must  soon  leave — God  only  knows  how  soon. 
May  all  the  afflicting  warnings  I  have  received  not  have 
been  given  in  vain  !  God  bless  you,  my  dear  Augustus, 
and  continue  you  what  I  now  think  you,  and  then  I  have  a 
blessing  and  prop  to  look  forward  to,  should  my  life  still  be 
prolonged  a  few  years." 


CHANGES.  2  I  5 

In  the  spring  of  1825,  Augustus  Hare  had  told  Miss 
Leycester  that,  upon  receiving  the  news  of  Martin  Stow's 
death,  he  thought  within  himself,  "  If  I  were  to  die  now 
without  ever  having  been  of  use !  "—and  that  evening  he 
decided  upon  taking  Orders. 

On  Advent  Sunday,  1825,  he  was  ordained  in  Winchester 
College  Chapel  by  the  Bishop  of  Hereford.  That  in  taking 
this  step  he  was  not  influenced  by  worldly  motives  alone 
may  be  seen  from  the  zeal  with  which  he  fulfilled  at  Al  tor* 
even  the  high  idea  of  ministerial  duty  which  he  had  formed 
for  himself  and  suggested  to  his  friends.  Doubtless  each 
year  spent  among  his  village  people  brought  with  it  a 
growth  in  grace  and  a  ripening  for  immortality;  but  the 
work  was  not  begun  at  Alton.  As  he  himself  wrote  about 
this  time,  perhaps  with  reference  to  the  mental  struggle 
which  had  been  so  long  oppressing  him :  "  In  darkness  there 
is  no  choice.  It  is  light  that  enables  us  to  see  the  differ- 
ences between  things,  and  it  is  Christ  that  gives  us  the 
light."  On  December  24th,  1825,  he  had  written  to  Lady 
Jones  a  letter  (on  the  outside  of  which  she  has  inscribed 
"  Mirabilia  !  ")  as  follows  : — 

"  I  have  at  last  made  up  my  mind  to  take  Orders  at  the 
Bishop  of  Hereford's  next  ordination.  I  know  this  will 
give  you  pleasure ;  and  may  God,  who  by  the  workings  of 
his  providence  thus  seems  to  call  me  to  a  particular  state  of 
life,  enable  me  to  do  my  duty  in  it.  My  wish  would  be  to 
continue  tutor  at  New  College  during  my  year  of  deacon- 
ship,  to  be  ordained  priest  soon  after  that  year  is  com- 
pleted, and  after  that  to  take  the  first  good  country  curacy 
that  offers. 


2l6  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  So  far  I  feel  certain  that  you  will  like  my  letter.  Would 
I  were  as  sure  you  would  be  equally  pleased  with  the  re- 
mainder. But  the  truth  may  as  well  be  told  at  once  ;  and 
as  I  have  lost  no  time  in  communicating  to  you  my  decision 
when  once  formed,  so  will  I  be  equally  candid  in  confessing 
what  has  induced  me  now  to  form  it.  In  two  words,  it  is 
Maria  Leycester.  You  know  how  long  and  how  sincerely 
I  have  been  anxious  to  see  her  united  to  my  lost  friend. 
The  last  words  I  had  from  him  were  as  follows :  '  How 
blessed  it  would  be  if,  after  all,  I  were  to  owe  my  happiness 
to  you  ! '  God,  who  has  forbidden  this,  well  knows  that 
could  any  persuasions,  any  exertion  of  mine  have  brought 
it  to  pass,  it  would  have  happened  long  ago.  But  it  was 
ordained  otherwise.  In  the  meantime,  as  poor  Stow's 
friend,  I  have  seen  and  heard  very  much  of  her,  and  all 
that  I  heard  and  saw  convinced  me  of  her  great  worth. 
Never  was  woman  exposed  to  a  nearer  scrutiny.  No  love 
was  in  the  way  to  blind  my  judgment,  while  I  had  oppor- 
tunities of  observing  her  character  and  habits,  such  as  I 
can  never  in  any  case  expect  to  enjoy  again.  The  result 
on  my  mind  was  thorough  esteem  founded  on  a  conviction 
of  her  thorough  excellence.  And  there  the  feeling  would 
have  rested  but  for  my  late  loss ;  since  which  I  have  begun 
to  feel  desirous  of  securing,  if  possible,  for  myself,  what  up 
to  that  time  I  had  loved  to  dwell  on  as  a  treasure  reserved 
for  my  best  friend.  To  have  been  loved  by  him  and  edu- 
cated by  Reginald  doubles  her  value  in  my  eyes,  and  I  am 
sure  will  not  diminish  it  in  yours." 

In  April  Augustus  Hare  met  Miss  Leycester  at  Alderley, 
still  as  the  friend  of  Mr.  Stow,  and  a  fellow-mourner  with  her 
for  his  loss.  But  on  the  day  before  he  left,  in  speaking  of 
his  distress  in  going  away,  he  disclosed  involuntarily  what 


CHANGES.  2  I  7 

his  own  feelings  had  been,  while  he  was  doing  all  he 
could  to  promote  the  happiness  of  his  friend. 

The  early  summer  of  1825  was  passed  by  Maria  Ley- 
cester  at  Alderley. 

M.  L.  to  Miss  CLINTON. 

"  Stoke,  July  27,  1825. — That  I  have  not  written  to  you 
before  you  will  easily  understand  to  have  arisen  from  my 
unwillingness  to  lose  a  single  hour  of  my  last  days  at  Alder- 
ley.  They  were  indeed  very  precious  to  me,  and  after 
staying  there  for  four  months  uninterruptedly,  you  may 
well  imagine  how  painful  it  was  to  me  to  leave  all  those 
who  were  more  than  usually  endeared  to  me  by  the  comfort 
they  had  afforded  me  during  a  time  when  nothing  else  could 
have  pleased  or  interested.  Certainly  too,  altogether,  with 
its  inhabitants,  its  abundance  of  books,  of  drawings,  liberty 
unrestrained,  beautiful  walks  and  rides  and  seats,  luxuriance 
of  flowers,  and  in  delicious  weather,  there  cannot  on  earth 
be  so  perfect  a  paradise.  During  the  hot  weather  we 
generally  went  on  the  mere  or  rode  in  the  evenings.  Every 
morning  before  breakfast  Lucy  and  I  met  in  the  wood  at 
the  old  Moss  House,  where  we  spent  an  hour  together,  and 
Owen  came  to  ferry  me  home.  With  so  much  around 
to  interest  and  please  me,  I  put  away  self  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, and  endeavoured  as  much  as  I  could  to  enjoy  the 
present.  You  know  how  dearly  I  love  all  those  children, 
and  it  was  such  a  pleasure  to  see  them  all  so  happy  to- 
gether. To  be  sure  it  would  be  singular  if  they  were  not 
different  from  other  children,  with  the  advantages  they 
have,  where  education  is  made  so  interesting  and  amusing 

as   it   is   to   them While   others   of    their  age  are 

plodding  through  the  dull  histories,  of  which  they  remember 
nothing,  of  unconnected  countries  and  ages,  K.'s  system  is 
to  take  one  particular  era  perhaps,  and  upon  the  basis  of  the 


?l8  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

General  History,  pick  out  for  them  from  different  books 
all  that  bears  upon  that  one  subject,  whether  in  memoirs  or 
literature,  making  it  at  once  an  interesting  study  to  herself 
and  them. " 

M.  L.  to  A  FRIEND  IN  LONDON. 

"  March  29,  1827. — All  your  doubts  and  difficulties  I 
enter  into  and  understand,  and  I  think  there  is  scarcely  so 
trying  a  situation,  one  so  full  of  fears,  as  that  of  a  person 
who  struggles  to  act  up  to  the  highest  sense  of  right,  and 
yet  wishes  not  to  seem  uncharitable,  or  to  condemn  those 
around  who  act  differently  or  think  less  to  be  necessary. 
To  those  who  have  once  separated  themselves  from  the 
world,  openly  shown  and  declared  the  difference  of  their 
opinions,  and  are  consequently  countenanced  by  many 
others  who  think  and  act  as  they  do,  the  difficulty  is  far  less 
— the  struggle  is  at  an  end.  They  have  made  their  choice, 
and  though  they  may  often  judge  imperfectly  and  be  judged 
harshly,  they  are,  I  do  not  doubt,  happier  than  those  who 
try  to  reconcile  their  better  feelings  with  the  habits  of  the 
world  by  taking  a  middle  course.  To  persevere  with  firm- 
ness and  courage  in  what  we  know  to  be  right,  caring  not 
for  the  ridicule  of  others,  and  at  the  same  time  to  disarm 
their  censure  by  the  mildness,  humility,  and  charity  with 
which  we  differ  from  them,  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  points 
to  gain;  but  I  agree  perfectly  with  you  that  no  one  can 
judge  of  another's  mind,  or  what  may  have  an  effect  upon 
it.  It  is  the  object  we  are  to  attain  which  should  be  alike 
to  all,  the  means  of  arriving  at  it  may  differ  in  every 
different  person,  and  we  must  remember  we  are  account- 
able only  for  ourselves.  As  far  as  we  can  make  Sunday  a 
day  of  rest,  not  so  much  from  outward  acts  as  from  earthly 
feelings,  it  must  surely  be  right,  and  in  London,  above  all 
places,  this  is  so  difficult  to  do,  that  every  help  we  can  give 


CHANGES.  219 


to  our  wavering  fancies  must  be  needed  ;  indeed,  I  have 
always  looked  back  with  shame  upon  the  waste  of  so  sacred 
a  day,  which  the  habits  of  London  life  entail  even  upon  such 
humble  sharers  in  it  as  myself.  As  for  theatres,  I  cannot 
understand  where  their  individual  harm  lies.  How  far 
example  and  sanction  is  right  is  another  question;  but  I 
cannot  but  think  that  there  is  much  to  be  said  of  the  good 
produced  by  the  presence  of  respectable  and  good  people. 
Such  amusements  in  the  case  of  these  all  deserting  them, 
would  become  much  more  pernicious  in  their  character,  and 
the  staying  away  of  ever  so  many  would  not  deter  others 
from  going,  while  their  presence  may  be  a  restraint  and  pre- 
servation from  evil " 

Augustus  Hare  frequently  met  Miss  Leycester  during  the 
winter  of  1825-26,  which  she  passed  with  her  brother  at 
East  Sheen,  and  the  following  summer  he  visited  Stoke. 

M.  L.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Stoke,  June  23,  1826. — After  dining  early,  Augustus 
and  I  proposed  an  expedition  to  Hodnet,  and  my  father 
joined  us.  It  was  the  most  bright,  beautiful  evening,  and 
I  cannot  describe  to  you  how  lovely  the  rectory  looked,  it 
is  so  improved  since  the  trees  are  grown  up,  and  there  was 
such  an  abundance  of  flowers,  which  seemed  to  mock  the 
desolation  of  the  house  within.  As  I  stood  there,  looking 
at  that  beautiful  view,  my  mind  went  back  to  years  gone  by, 
and  I  could  almost  have  fancied  myself  again  the  Maria 
Leycester  when  it  was  a  place  to  me  of  such  exquisite  en- 
joyment. I  thought  of  all  the  happiness  I  had  received  there 
from  those  I  loved  so  dearly,  and  turned  to  find  them  all 
gone,  Augustus  standing  by  me  as  the  only  remaining  link 
of  all  that  had  been.  We  went  together  over  the  garden 


220  MEMORIALS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

in  silence,  both  feeling  much  that  could  find  no  utter- 
ance ;  but  it  was  a  comfort  to  know  that  all  was  under- 
stood." 

Of  this  time  is  the  following  letter  from  Bishop  Heber : — 

"  Bombay,  June  3,  1825. —  ....  It  has  not  been  alto- 
gether business  which  has  prevented  my  writing ;  for,  busy 
as  I  have  been,  and  must  always  be,  I  could  still  long  since 
have  found  or  made  time  to  say  how  gratified  I  am  by  your 
keeping  me  in  recollection,  and  with  how  much  eagerness  I 
open  letters  which  bring  me  near  to  such  valued  friends  at 
so  great  a  distance,  and  which  call  me  back,  as  yours  do, 
for  a  time,  from  the  broad,  arid  plain  of  Rohilkund  to  the 
quiet  lanes  and  hedgerow  walks  of  Stoke  or  Hodnet.  There 
are,  however,  alas  !  so  many  painful  associations  connected 
with  my  handwriting  since  the  period  of  my  letters  to 
Augustus  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  that  I  have  felt,  to  say  the 
truth,  a  strange  reluctance  to  address  a  letter  to  you,  out  of 
a  fear  to  disturb  afresh  the  grief  of  an  affectionate  and 
innocent  heart,  which  had  been  so  severe  a  sufferer  by  the 
events  which  took  place  at  the  commencement  of  my  pre- 
sent journey.  That  journey,  interesting  as  it  has  been, 
and  full  of  scenes  and  circumstances  peculiarly  adapted  to 
excite  and  gratify,  has  had  its  pleasures,  indeed,  throughout, 
alloyed  with  very  sad  recollections,  and  much  as  I  enjoyed 
the  beautiful  country  and  singular  people  through  which  my 
course  was  laid,  I  could  not  help  often,  very  often,  calling 
to  mind  that  I  was  seeing  all  these  things  alone,  and  divided 
by  distance,  or  a  yet  more  awful  separation,  from  my  wife, 
children,  and  the  attached  and  affectionate  friend  with  whom 
I  had  hoped  to  share  my  pleasures  and  toils,  and  whose  ac- 
quirements, good  sense,  and  invincible  good  temper  and 
cheerfulness  so  remarkably  fitted  him  to  enjoy  and  profit  by 


CHANGES.  221 

such  a  pilgrimage.  My  wife  and  one  of  my  children — our 
dear  little  Emily — I  have  since  been  permitted  to  rejoin,  and 
the  accounts  we  receive  of  little  Harriet,  whom  they  were 
obliged  to  leave  behind  in  Calcutta,  continue  very  comfortable. 
....  For  myself,  I  really  do  not  recollect  a  time  when  I 
have  enjoyed  more  perfect  health  than  now,  and  though  my 
hair  grows  grey  all  the  faster  for  the  fiery  sunbeams  which 
have  beaten  on  it ;  yet '  that,'  as  I  remember  a  poor  old 
woman  saying  of  her  rheumatism,  '  is,  at  my  time  of  life, 
excusable!  As  to  the  general  outline  of  our  lives  in  India, 
you  have  had,  I  know,  a  diligent  and  faithful,  as  well  as  a 
most  attached,  correspondent  in  Emily,  who  will  have  told 
you  both  the  wide  expanse  of  river,  mountain,  forest,  and 
plain  which  I  have  since  been  travelling,  her  own  still  more 
romantic  and  perilous  situation  during  the  mutiny  at  Bar- 
rackpore,  and  (as  I  believe  she  has  written  since  her  arrival 
here)  the  long  voyage  of  six  weeks  which  she  made  to  rejoin 
me  round  the  whole  southern  half  of  India.  We  have 
since  had  a  little  experience  of  camp-life  together;  and  it 
gave  me  pleasure  to  find  that,  though  the  weather,  even  on 
the  hills,  is  too  hot  at  present  for  a  long  continuance  under 
canvas,  she  is  likely  to  enjoy  a  marching  life  as  much  as  I 
do.  For  myself — 

1  My  tent  on  shore,  my  pinnace  on  the  sea, 
Are  more  than  cities  or  serais  to  me.' — 

So  far  as  enjoyment  only  is  concerned,  I  know  nothing  more 
agreeable  than  the  continual  change  of  scene  and  air,  the 
exercise,  the  good  hours,  the  good  appetite,  the  temperance, 
and  the  freedom  from  the  forms  and  visiting  of  a  city  life 
to  which  we  are  enabled  or  compelled  by  a  long  march, 
encamping  daily  with  our  little  caravan  through  even  a 
moderately  interesting  country,  nor,  except  during  the  in- 
tense heat  and  the  annual  deluge  of  rain  (which,  by  the  way, 


222  MEMORIALS   OF   A  QUIET   LIFE. 

it  must  be  owned,  occupies  one half 'of  our  tropical  calendar), 
I  should  desire  no  other  than  a  canvas  roof  during  the  rest 
of  my  abode  in  India.  Many  indeed  as  the  discomforts 
and  dangers  of  India  are  (and  surely  there  are  few  lands  on 
earth  where  death  so  daily  and  hourly  knocks  at  our  doors, 
or  where  men  have  so  constant  warning  to  hold  them- 
selves in  readiness  to  meet  their  Maker),  and  much  as,  I 
cannot  help  feeling,  I  sacrificed  in  coming  hither,  I  have 
never  yet  repented  my  determination,  or  have  ceased  to  be 
thankful  to  God  for  the  varied  interest,  the  amalgamated 
knowledge,  and,  I  hope  and  think,  the  augmented  means  of 
usefulness  which  this  new  world  has  supplied  to  me.  I 
have,  indeed,  abundant  reasons  for  thankfulness  in  the  pre- 
servations which  my  wife  and  children  have  met  with  amid 
all  the  dangers  of  unhealthy  climates,  wide  wanderings  by 
land  and  sea,  and  the  incidental  dangers  and  difficulties  of 
political  disturbance  (in  my  wile's  case  even  at  her  own  door), 
and  in  mine,  during  my  progress  through  countries  which 
are  never,  according  to  European  ideas,  settled  or  tranquil. 
Still  more  ought  I  to  be  thankful  for  the  support  and  encou- 
ragement which  I  am  receiving  from  almost  all  classes  of 
men  in  my  attempts  to  discharge  my  duty.  And,  after  all, 
India  in  itself,  taking  one  province  with  another,  is  really  a 
noble  field  either  of  duty  or  speculation,  abounding  in 
everything  which  can  interest  either  an  artist,  an  antiqua- 
rian, a  lover  of  the  picturesque  and  romantic  beauty,  or  a 
curious  observer  of  human  life,  both  in  their  most  refined 
and  their  simplest  dresses.  I  have  often  thought  how 
Edward  Stanley  would  be  at  home  here,  and  how  ricn  a 
portfolio  he  would  have  acquired  in  such  a  journey  as  I  have 
been  making,  from  the  wild  and  naked  Bheel,  with  his  bow 
and  arrows  of  bamboo  and  his  kennel  (for  his  house  deserves 
no  better  name)  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the  jungle,  to  the 
splendidly-equipped  Patan,  with  his  bright  chain-mail,  his 


CHANGES.  223 

silver-studded  lance,  his  shield  of  rhinoceros  hide  as  trans- 
parent as  amber,  and  the  trappings  of  silk,  silver,  and  bro- 
cade which  almost  sweep  the  ground  as  he  passes  on  his 
beautiful  charger.  Either  of  these  v>  onld  make,  as  you  may 
well  believe,  a  spirited  picture ;  nor  might  less  striking 
sketches  be  made  from  the  courts  and  processions  of  the 
native  princes,  with  all,  which  noise,  bustle,  banners,  ele- 
phants, and  horsemen  can  give  of  magnificence,  or  from  the 
totally  different  ostentation  of  the  more  austere  Brahmins 
and  religious  mendicants.  You  may  conceive  the  former  of 
these,  with  their  heads  close  shaven,  their  naked  bodies 
covered  with  chalk  and  cowdung,  a  white  cloth  round  their 
waists,  and  their  countenances  composed  into  a  studied 
calmness,  the  meekness  and  abstraction  of  which  is  some- 
times singularly  contrasted  with  the  steady,  watchful,  crafty, 
glittering  eye  which  seems  to  look  into  those  its  owner 
speaks  with  ;  the  latter  mad,  filthy,  hideous,  his  hair  and 
his  beard  full  of  ashes,  his  garment  a  tiger's  skin,  his  limbs 
distorted  and  his  body  scarred  with  the  efiects  of  his  volun- 
tary austerities,  his  eyes  inflamed  with  spiritual  pride  and 
intoxicating  drugs,  and  his  whole  mind  and  body  wilfully 
lowered  to  the  level  of  the  wild  animals  among  whom  he 
chiefly  affects  to  have  his  habitation.  Add  to  all  this  a 
very  rich  and  luxuriant  scenery,  a  sky  which  gives  to  every 
object  a  glow  beyond  anything  seen  in  the  old  Italian 
paintings,  and  (in  some  of  the  older  and  more  renowned 
cities)  buildings  which  in  beauty  of  material  (white  marble) 
far  surpass,  and  in  grace  and  majesty  bear  no  unfavourable 
comparison  with,  our  finest  Gothic  architecture.  Such  is 
India ;  and  such  a  country  is  doubtless  well  worth  visiting, 
even  if  one  had  no  stronger  motives  than  curiosity  in  com- 
ing hither.  Yet  I  own  there  are  times  when,  though  I  do 
not  repent,  I  cannot  help  being  melancholy ;  and  it  is, 
perhaps,  one  of  the  advantages  for  which  I  ought  to  be 


224  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

thankful,  that  I  have  too  much  and  too  constant  employ- 
ment on  my  hands  to  have  much  leisure  for  indulging 
gloomy  thoughts.  You  are  probably  aware  that  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  visiting  the  mountains  which  form  the  first 
stay  and  outwork  of  the  Himalaya.  The  season,  however, 
was  too  far  advanced  and  my  time  too  limited  to  allow  of 
my  penetrating  more  than  five  days'  journey  from  the  plains 
of  Hindoostan,  or  to  climb  to  a  greater  height  than  about 
nine  thousand  feet,  where  Merdideer  lay  before  me  at  about 
forty  miles  direct  distance,  and  above  sixteen  thousand  feet 
higher  still.  It  was  tantalizing  to  turn  back  at  such  a  time ; 
but  even  thus  far  the  scenery  which  I  passed  through  not 
only  surpassed  all  which  I  had  seen,  but  all  which  I  had 
fancied  previously.  Adieu,  dear  Maria.  That  you  may  be 
blessed  with  all  temporal  and  eternal  happiness  is  the  ear- 
nest wish  of  your  sincere  and  affectionate  friend. 

"  R.  CALCUTTA." 

This  was  the  last  letter  of  an  affectionate  correspondence 
of  many  years.  On  returning  to  Stoke  from  Toft,  on  the 
ist  of  September,  1826,  Maria  Leycester  received  the  fol- 
lowing : — 

AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE  to  M.  L. 

"August  30,  1826. — I  must  write  a  few  lines  to  my  dear 
Miss  Leycester,  because  I  am  sure  she  will  be  a  fellow- 
mourner  with  myself.  It  was  only  this  morning  I  received 
the  mourning-ring  my  poor  uncle  left  me ;  *  and  already  the 
news  had  reached  me  that  Reginald  went  before  him  to 
heaven.  So  closely  do  misfortunes,  in  this  world  that  we 
love  so  much,  press  and  follow  on  each  other.  I  did  not 

*  Dean  Shipley  died  at  Bodryddan,  in  June,  1825.  He  is  buried  in 
the  parish  church  of  Rhyddlan  ;  there  is  a  fine  statue  of  him  in  one  oi 
the  transepts  of  the  cathedral  of  St.  Asaph. 


CHANGES.  .  225 

think  he  could  have  been  taken  from  us  so  soon.  For  our 
sakes,  and  for  the  sake  of  India,  I  trusted  he  would  have 
been  spared,  though  he  was  fully  ripe  for  being  gathered 
into  the  garner  of  God.  But  our  Saviour  was  making  up 
his  jewels,  and  missed  so  bright  a  one,  and  sent  for  it.  And 
we  repine !  and  must  repine ;  for  when  was  there  a  better 
man,  a  kinder,  a  more  delightful,  or  one  more  fitted  to  make 
Christianity  appear  in  its  true  light  as  a  mild  and  amiable  dis- 
pensation ?  May  a  double  portion  of  his  spirit  fall  upon  his 
successor,  that  India  may  not  have  cause  to  feel  his  loss,  as 
we  must,  to  be  irreparable.  For  we  shall  never  see  any  one 
like  him  again,  and  therefore  do  I  grieve." 

C.  S.  to  M.  L. 

"  Alderley,  Sept.  i,  1826. — Of  course,  my  first  impulse  is 
to  take  up  my  pen  and  write  to  you.  I  could  hardly  believe 
what  I  saw  when  my  eyes  fell  upon  the  words  '  Bishop  of 
Calcutta ' — nor  can  I  now.  I  had  always  a  presentiment, 
alas,  how  false  !  that  he  was — would  be  safe — that  his  energy 
of  mind  would  carry  him  through ;  and  that  as  he  had  begun, 
so  he  would  go  on.  Alas  !  how  you  will  feel  it ! — how  every- 
body must ! — how  incalculable  the  loss  to  the  world  !  And 
poor  Mrs.  Reginald :  the  shock  must  have  been  apparently 
as  unexpected  as  to  us  in  taking  up  the  paper.  Now,  she  is 
probably  on  her  way  home,  and  the  first  news  on  landing 
will  be  her  father's  death.  My  first  thought  was  of  you,  and 
how  this  must  revive  in  their  original  form  all  your  feelings. 
All  one  can  say  is,  that  he  yet  lives  to  you  almost  as  if  he 
was  alive,  and  that  one's  affection  and  remembrance  of  such 
a  character  does  indeed  live  beyond  the  grave." 

M.  L.  to  AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE. 

"  Stoke  Rectory,  Sept.  3,  1826. — I  did  not  think  you  would 
a  second  time  have  had  to  communicate  intelligence  so 
VOL.  i.  Q 


226  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

grievous.  .  .  .  Dear,  dear  Reginald.  I  had  hoped  so  con- 
fidently he  would  have  been  spared  ;  that  so  faithful  a 
servant,  so  noble  a  pattern  of  what  a  Christian  should  be, 
would  have  been  preserved  to  continue  the  great  work  for 
which  he  seemed  so  peculiarly  marked  out ;  but  God's  ways 
are  not  as  our  ways,  and  the  same  confidence  which  led  us  to 
trust  in  his  preservation,  must  now  convince  us  that  it  is  for 
some  great  and  high  purpose  he  is  removed  from  us.  This 
is  one  of  those  mysterious  dispensations  in  which  nothing 
but  an  unlimited  faith  can  avail  us  anything.  Here  is  no 
selfish  grief :  the  public  loss  seems  almost  even  more  than 
the  private  one  ;  yet,  who  that  has  ever  felt  the  support  and 
comfort  of  his  friendship,  who  that  ever  knew  the  tender- 
ness, kindness,  and  gentleness  of  nature,  added  to  those 
uncommon  talents  and  powers  of  mind,  can  ever  cease  to 
regret  that  they  shall  see  him  no  more  ?  And  Emily,  poor 
Emily,  where  can  she  seek  for  comfort  upon  earth  ?  She 
too,  on  her  return  to  England,  which,  I  suppose,  will  not  be 
long  delayed,  will  find  a  second  affliction  awaiting  her,  and 
the  home  and  protector  to  whom  probably  she  would  look 
for  support  and  comfort,  gone  likewise.  Her  children  too, 
who  can  ever  supply  the  place  of  such  a  father  to  them  ? 
For  him,  if  such  a  word  as  envy  can  be  used,  how  much 
cause  is  there  for  such  a  feeling  in  thinking  of  the  termina- 
tion of  such  a  life,  in  which  he  exchanges  this  world  of  trial 
and  sorrow  for  one  of  never-fading  glory !  I  am  most  grateful 
to  have  had  such  a  friend — to  have  been  permitted  an  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  a  character  like  his,  but  after  re- 
ceiving from  him  the  affection  and  kindness  of  the  tenderest 
brother,  after  living  so  constantly  with  him  as  I  have  done, 
you  may  well  believe  that  it  is  now  a  hard  struggle  to  feel 
that  we  have  in  this  life  parted  for  ever.  It  was  only  yester- 
day morning,  before  leaving  Toft,  that  I  copied  out  of  Mrs. 
Hutchinson's  '  Memoirs '  a  passage,  which  I  little  thought 


CHANGES.  227 

would,  in  a  few  hours,  be  brought  home  to  my  mind  with 
such  renewed  force.  I  must  quote  a  few  lines  of  it  for  you. 
*  Let  not  excesse  of  love  and  delight  in  the  streame  make  us 
forget  the  fountaine  :  he  and  all  his  excellencies  came  from 
God,  and  flowed  back  into  their  owne  spring : — there  let  us 
seek  them,  thither  let  us  hasten  after  him,  there  having  found 
him,  let  us  cease  to  bewaile  among  the  dead  that  which  is 
risen,  or  rather  was  immortall, — his  soule  conversed  with 
God  so  much  when  he  was  here,  that  it  rejoices  to  be  now 
eternally  freed  from  interruption  in  that  blessed  exercise, — 
his  virtues  were  recorded  in  heaven's  annals,  and  can  never 
perish ;  by  them  he  yet  teaches  us,  and  all  those  to  whose 

knowledge  they  shall  arrive ' 

"  We  are  going  soon  to  stay  with  the  Stanleys  at  Penrhos. 
I  am  glad  this  bitter  news  reached  us  while  we  were  at 
home ,  Here,  at  least,  we  are  surrounded  by  those  who  know 
how  much  cause  there  is  to  grieve.  It  has  been  a  comfort 
to  me  writing  to  you,  for  on  this  subject  we  can  have  but 
one  feeling,  and  you  will  not  be  tired  with  my  dwelling  upon 
it  so  long.  Dear  Augustus,  we  have  lost  two  whom  we 
dearly  loved;  but  their  spirits  continue  to  live  with  us, 
their  memories  to  rest  in  our  hearts,  that  we  may  place  our 
hopes  on  that  world  to  which  they  are  gone  before  us,  and 
so  live  here  that  we  may  one  day  be  united  to  them  in 
heaven." 


C.  S.  to  M.  L. 

"Sept.  5,  1826. — You  will  well  imagine  that  for  the  last 
two  days  I  have  thought  of  little  but  you,  and  what  you 
must  be  suffering :  the  gap  in  one's  own  mind  is  so  great,  in 
everybody's  it  must  be.  To  be  sure  he  has  died  at  his  post 
as  much  as  any  soldier  on  the  field  of  battle.  There  is 
something  very  fine  and  affecting,  and  soothing  and  ele- 


228  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

vating,  in  reading  of  the  occupation  of  his  time  up  to  the 
very  moment  of  his  death,  the  suddenly  giving  his  benedic- 
tion in  the  Tamul  language  to  the  people  at  Tanjore,  his 
very  last  act  having  been  the  visit  to  the  native  colony ;  in 
short,  preparation  was  necessary  for  those  who  are  left 
behind — not  for  him.  One  is  so  sure  that  if  he  had  had  to 
choose  his  death,  except  the  suddenness  of  it  for  our  sakes, 
he  would  have  chosen  thus  to  die  in  the  midst  of  his 
labours,  thus  perhaps  giving  an  efficacy  to  his  last  words, 
and  leaving  an  impression  on  the  minds  of  all  who  had  just 
heard  and  seen  him,  which  no  labours  of  a  long  life  spent 
amongst  them  could  have  done.  In  this  respect  it  is  a 
death  worthy  of  him,  of  his  character,  and  better  than  if  his 
health  had  been  impaired  and  gradually  undermined.  .  . 
I  long  to  have  you  out  of  sight  of  Hodnet  Tower." 

After  a  visit  to  Penrhos,  Maria  Leycester  returned  with 
the  Stanleys  to  Alderley,  in  order  to  attend  the  marriage  of 
her  friend,  Isabella  Stanley,  with  Captain  Parry.  In  June, 
she  went  for  three  weeks  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  thence  to 
Paris  with  her  father  and  Mrs.  Oswald  Leycester,  returning 
to  Sheen  for  the  christening  of  her  brother's  eldest  son. 
One  of  her  great  interests  this  year  was  in  the  publication  of 
the  "  Guesses  at  Truth,"  by  the  two  brothers,  Augustus  and 
Julius  Hare.  As  their  "  minds  had  grown  up  together,  been 
nourished  in  great  measure  by  the  same  food,  sympathized 
in  each  other's  affections  and  aversions,  and  been  shaped 
reciprocally  by  the  assimilating  influences  of  brotherly  com- 
munion, a  family  likeness  is  perceivable  throughout  the 
volumes,  although  perhaps  with  such  differences  as  it  is  not 
displeasing  to  behold  in  the  children  of  the  same  parents."* 
*  Preface  to  the  "  Guesses." 


CHANGES.  229 

Augustus  Hare,  who  was  to  pass  the  next  winter  in  Italy, 
spent  two  days  at  Sheen  while  the  Leycesters  were  there ; 
and,  as  they  returned  to  Stoke,  they  passed  through  Oxford, 
and  visited  him  at  New  College. 

M.  L.'s  JOURNAL. 

"  Sheen,  July  22. — Two  days  spent  together  here  have 
done  away  with  the  reserve  hitherto  kept  up  between 
•Augustus  and  me,  and  I  have  far  more  than  I  once  thought 
possible,  been  able  to  give  a  degree  of  affection  I  was 
scarcely  myself  aware  of,  till  it  was  called  forth.  Time  has 
done  its  work  in  softening  down  every  painful  remembrance, 
in  making  the  past  appear  as  a  dream,  and  giving  to  the 
future  more  of  reality.  Unconsciously  and  imperceptibly 
the  feelings  of  esteem  and  friendship  have  assumed  a  new 
character,  and  something  of  the  tenderness  and  beauty  at- 
tending a  warmer  interest  taken  their  place.  .  .  .  Devotion 
of  heart  such  as  his  must  either  be  met  and  answered,  or  re- 
pelled ;  there  can  be  no  medium  of  indifference  ;  and  where 
there  is  an  interest  so  strong  as  I  have  always  felt  in  him, 
admiration  of  the  whole  character,  gratitude  for  the  kindness 
and  attachment  felt  by  him,  it  must  be  a  colder  nature  than 
mine  which  could  remain  unmoved.  It  is  well  that  such 
openness  of  heart  should  have  been  reserved  till  now,  earlier 
I  could  not  have  entered  into  it  so  much ;  now  the  seed  that 
is  sown  needs  but  watering,  and  I  feel  all  the  happier  that 
we  understand  each  other  perfectly,  and  that  both  are  satis- 
fied that  nothing  but  time  is  wanting  to  give  us  all  the 
happiness  that  may  be  enjoyed  by  persons  between  whom 
there  will  be  such  perfect  confidence  and  affection.  How 
extraordinary  and  singular  good  fortune  has  attended  me, 
that  I  should  twice  have  met  with  that  kind  of  deep  feeling 
which  alone  could,  I  think,  have  power  to  interest  me,— that 
when  the  only  species  of  happiness  which  I  imagined  to  be 


230  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

perfect  was  taken  from  me,  it  should  spring  up  again  as  it 
were  from  the  ashes  of  the  other,  and  assume  a  form  nearly 
as  beautiful,  and  I  trust,  more  enduring." 

"  Stoke,  August  1 6. — I  feel  now  a  glow  of  inward  happi- 
ness which  I  have  long  been  without,  and  whether  I  con- 
template the  beauty  of  the  world  around  me,  or  turn  inward 
and  dwell  on  the  beauty  of  feeling,  and  the  many  sources  of 
gratification  it  has  given  me,  my  heart  swells  with  gratitude 
for  such  enjoyment.  Secure  of  the  affection  of  Augustus,  I 
feel  no  longer  a  blank  in  life,  and  everything  takes  a  new 
and  brighter  colouring. 

"  It  was  a  pleasure,  though  a  mixed  one,  to  see  Augustus 
again  (at  Oxford).  The  moments  of  anticipation  are  in  so 
short  a  meeting  the  most  real  in  enjoyment :  you  do  not 
then  dwell  upon  the  parting  so  soon  to  follow,  and  think  but 
of  the  meeting, — and  what  feeling  is  so  exhilarating  as  that 
of  hope  ?  But  when  you  see  the  person  whom  a  few  minutes 
is  about  to  separate  you  from  for  a  length  of  time,  the 
present  is  not  able  to  exclude  the  recollection  of  the  future 
that  is  so  soon  to  come.  ...  I  do  indeed  daily  feel  the 
blessing  of  having  such  a  friend  to  love,  and  with  whom  I 
can  hardly  be  mistaken  in  looking  forward  to  a  happy 
future." 

M.  L.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  East  Sheen,  Jiily  10,  1827. — What  a  pleasure  it  is  to 
think  that  the  most  exquisite  moments  on  earth  are  but 
faint  images  of  that  which  will  be  !  In  beautiful  days  and 
nights  such  as  these,  how  far  easier  is  it  to  raise  one's 
thoughts,  and  lift  oneself  up  to  higher  spheres,  and  what  a 
miserable  and  aching  void  must  those  hearts  feel  which 
cannot  ascend  beyond  the  present !  When  we  look  around 
at  a  world  so  beautiful,  our  hearts  must  glow  with  gratitude 
for  having  so  much  of  enjoyment  given;  and  if  there  are 


CHANGES.  231 

some  things  which  are  kept  from  us,  if  we  have  some  trials, 
some  annoyances,  if  all  is  not  as  we  could  wish  it,  we  must 
see  the  mercy  of  it  in  leading  us  to  seek  that  comfort  which 
if  every  earthly  blessing  were  granted  to  us,  we  might  per- 
haps neglect  and  forget.  Oh,  at  times  how  clear,  how 
straight  seems  the  path  we  should  follow,  making  one 
object  our  chief  and  great  concern,  and  all  things  subser- 
vient to  that — forgetting  ourselves,  except  in  the  exercise  of 
examining  self — and  striving  to  show  worthily  our  Christian 
profession  by  a  more  unwearied  endeavour  after  good  and 
love  to  all  around  us.  But  then  comes  human  weakness, 
and  our  highest  resolves  often  fall,  and  become  of  no  avail : 
this,  too,  has  its  use,  for  without  such  humbling  experience, 
we  should  not  fly  to  Him  who  alone  can  make  us  strong. 
We  shall  never  be  tried  beyond  what  we  are  able  to  bear, 
and  assuredly  those  whose  struggle  here  has  been  the 
strongest,  will  hereafter  reap  the  more  abundantly. 

"  I  close  every  evening  now  by  learning  a  hymn  of  my 
dear  Reginald's,  which  sends  me  to  sleep  in  peace  and  love. 
You  are  hardly  aware  in  reading  them,  how  calculated  they 
are  for  private  devotion." 

"  East  Sheen,  July  29,  1827. — Augustus  is  just  gone.  .  . 
It  is  indeed  a  blessed  thing  in  a  world  which  it  needs  not 
eight-and-twenty  years  to  show  in  its  true  colours,  to  feel  the 
repose  of  resting  upon  the  certain  hope  of  devoted  affection, 
and  a  peaceful  and  happy  future ;  and,  although  for  his  sake 
I  could  wish  for  more  lightness  and  gaiety  of  heart  than  ever 
comes  to  me  now,  I  am  quite  satisfied  for  my  own  that  the 
past  has  not  been  in  vain,  and  that  it  is  far  better  to  have 
earthly  hopes  and  feelings  subdued  and  mingled  with 
higher  ones — that  I  can  never  forget  how  uncertain  and 
perishable  everything  here  is,  and  how  dependent  one  must 
feel  on  God  for  every  possession  granted  to  us.  Of  the 
dearest  earthly  treasures,  any  single  moment  may  deprive 


232  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

us  ;  and,  in  the  midst  of  the  purest  blessings  to  be  enjoyed 
here,  so  much  of  care,  of  anxiety,  and  of  vexation  is  mingled, 
that  nothing  but  constant  and  habitual  recourse  to  spiritual 
comfort  can  stay  the  mind  in  perfect  peace,  and  calm  the 
variableness  of  human  feelings.  Surely  I  should  be  grateful 
for  the  chastening  which  has  brought  this  more  forcibly 
home,  and  for  the  links  of  sweet  remembrance  which  have 
attended  even  my  hours  of  suffering  and  sorrow." 

M.  L.'s  JOURNAL. 

"Stoke,  August  9,  1827. — I  have  been  walking  with 
perfect  composure  with  Mrs.  Reginald  Heber  over  those 
fields  where  we  have  so  often  walked  in  happier  days  ;  but 
how  did  my  heart  swell  within  me  as  I  looked  upon  that 
beautiful  view  once  more,  and,  instead  of  Reginald,  had  by 
me  only  his  widow  and  children  !  Time  strangely  accustoms 
us  to  all,  even  the  bitterest  deprivations,  and  above  all  it 
teaches  us  to  hide  deep  within  us  what  is  felt.  Some  years 
ago  I  could  hardly  have  thought  of  the  circumstances 
under  which  we  have  now  met  as  bearable.  How  all  is 
changed — the  gay,  the  spirited  of  our  party  then,  now  gone 
to  their  eternal  home,  no  trace  left  of  those  who  were  so 
very  dear  !  I  am  much  affected  by  the  letters  from  Dacca, 
which  Mrs.  Reginald  has  given  me  to  read.  How  powerful 
a  lesson  does  such  a  death-bed  give  !  The  same  hour  must 
come  to  all,  and  cold,  lukewarm,  and  indifferent  as  the 
heart  now  is,  in  the  near  approach  of  a  separation  of  the 
soul  and  body,  the  true  state  of  things  will  flash  upon  us 
with  the  same  strong  conviction.  To  put  myself  in 
imagination  in  this  situation  I  ever  find  the  best  means  of 
making  my  heart  feel  its  own  insufficiency,  \feel  that  in  the 
moment  of  expecting  to  appear  before  God,  every  fancied 
good  must  at  once  sink  into  nothing,  and  the  blessed  pri- 
vilege of  seeking  the  mercy  of  the  Saviour  be  clung  to  as 


CHANGES.  233 

the  only  refuge.  But  without  going  beyond  the  present,  I 
find  a  strange  difficulty  in  bringing  myself  to  more  than  a 
cold  belief  in  all  the  Gospel  teaches.  I  am  but  as  a 
beginner  in  those  things  which  I  have  so  long  thought  of, 
and  I  am  aware  that  my  heart  is  filled  with  pride,  vanity, 
and  selfishness,  even  when  I  seek  to  do  my  utmost.  That 
I  am  sincere  in  my  endeavours  to  discover  the  truth,  to 
seek  after  the  right  way,  God  surely  knows,  and  in  his  own 
good  time  I  know  that  He  will  assist  and  strengthen  me  in 
every  good  work,  and  give  me  that  blessed  hope  which 
brightened  the  last  days  at  Dacca." 

"  Oct.  28. — The  more  we  advance  in  Christian  knowledge 
the  narrower  seems  the  way :  so  many  difficulties  seem  to 
start  up,  so  many  trials  to  arise,  of  which  we  have  lived 
unconscious  before,  and  the  self-humbling  nature  of  all  real 
inquiry  into  ourselves  leaves  an  almost  discouraging  sense 
of  how  much  there  is  yet  to  be  done.  We  are  too  apt  to 
compare  ourselves  with  others  as  imperfect  and  perhaps 
more  erring,  instead  of  seeing  how  far  below  the  Gospel  we 
fall,  or  how  inferior  we  are  to  many  who  have  so  much 
more  to  struggle  with  than  we  have ;  in  short,  if  there  be  a 
way  in  which  it  is  possible  to  deceive  our  own  hearts  into 
the  belief  that  we  are  better  than  others,  or  that  we  have 
excuses  for  not  being  so,  we  instantly  adopt  it.  Surely,  of 
all  the  Christian  graces,  that  charity,  which  vaunteth  not 
itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly, 
beareth  and  endureth  all  things,  is  the  most  hard  to  attain. 
I  daily  feel  it  so.  It  is  so  difficult  to  bear  with  patience 
and  allowance  the  faults  of  others.  It  is  very  mistaken  to 
think  that  the  great  occasions  of  life  only  demand  religious 
feeling  and  principle  :  it  is  in  the  everyday  petty  annoyances, 
the  constant  call  upon  our  charity,  forbearance,  and  meek- 
ness, that  we  feel  the  constant  want  of  some  stronger  and 
more  powerful  stimulant  than  the  feeling  of  the  moment, 


234  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

to  smooth  down  the  rubs  of  life  and  make  our  existence 
one  of  peace  and  happiness." 

"  April  i,  1828. — As  I  search  deeper  into  things  unseen 
I  seem  to  gain  clearer  views  of  evangelical  truth,  and  in 
looking  back  I  see  how  little  my  former  ideas  upon  the 
subject  were  consistent  with  the  word  of  God  itself.  For 
this  increase  of  knowledge  I  feel  that  I  am  chiefly  indebted 
to  those  books  and  those  writers  usually  stigmatized  as 
Evangelical  and  Calvinistic.  I  cannot  enter  into  the  (as  it 
appears  to  me)  narrow  and  prejudiced  feeling  which  would 
at  once  discard  every  book  in  which  there  were  expressed 
any  opinions  differing  from  one's  own,  and  even  in  which 
there  might  be  mingled  expressions  at  variance  with  good 
taste  and  judgment.  Fallible  as  all  human  efforts  are,  we 
must  distinguish  in  everything  the  wheat  from  the  tares, 
and  though  I  may  not  agree  and  feel  on  many  points  with 
another,  I  can  benefit  by  and  admire  others  which  he 
perhaps  may  represent  in  a  more  striking  light  than  many  a 
less  earnest  and  zealous  author,  who  may  be  free  from 
objection  and  yet  may  be  far  less  useful.  The  truth  is, 
nothing  but  a  very  strong  feeling  of  religion  can  inspire 
such  language  as  shall  excite  interest  and  awaken  attention 
in  the  heart.  This  strong  feeling  is  usually  connected  with 
a  strong  view  on  doctrinal  points,  but  it  is  not  inseparable 
from  some  of  them." 

In  the  autumn  of  1827,  Augustus  Hare  went  to  Italy. 
He  was  detained  for  six  weeks  at  Perugia,  by  the  results  of 
an  accident,  where  he  was  most  kindly  nursed  by  Mr. 
(after  Sir  Augustus)  and  Mrs.  Calcott,  who,  when  he  was 
able  to  move,  took  him  on  to  Rome  in  their  carriage. 
Here  he  passed  several  months,  chiefly  in  the  society  of  the 
Blessingtons,  who  were  then  living  at  the  Villa  Negroni. 


CHANGES.  .  235 

"  Their  house  is  not  perhaps  the  house  for  a  clergyman,"  he 
wrote  to  Mrs.  Stanley,  "  though  not  a  word  is  ever  said 
there  either  on  religion,  or  morals,  or  politics,  which  could 
offend  the  most  scrupulous  ear,  but  I  cannot  quarrel  with 
people  who  for  my  brother's  sake  have  received  me  both 
cordially  and  kindly.  Lady  Blessington  reminds  me  of 
Julius'  Guess — '  Flattery  is  the  nicest  thing  in  the  world  ; 
pray  don't  sugar  it  too  sweet;'  Lady  Blessington  sugars 
it  too  sweet  New  College,  Francis,  the  Vicar  of  Rum- 
ford,  Landor,  all  are  almost  equally  superlative :  but 
she  is  attentive,  she  is  clever,  she  is  affable,  she  is 
amusing,  she  is  Irish,  she  has  black  hair,  and  if  she 
does  not  tire  of  me,  which  is  not  impossible,  I  foresee 
that  she  will  continue  to  force  me  to  dine  with  her  five 
times  a  week." 

In  the  following  summer,  Maria  Leycester  also  went 
abroad,  accompanying  her  sister,  brother-in-law,  two  of 
their  children,  and  her  friend  Lucy  Stanley,  to  Bordeaux 
and  the  Pyrenees,  an  excursion  which  gave  her  the  greatest 
delight.  It  was  on  her  return  to  England  after  this  tour 
that  her  engagement  to  Augustus  Hare  received  her  father's 
sanction. 

M..L.  foL.  A.S. 

"Stoke,  Oct.  13,  1828.— After  all  the  long  uncertainty 
which  has  attended  every  future  prospect  I  have  ever  had, 
the  change  now  to  thinking  one  may  in  reality  look  forward 
to  the  happy  rectory  I  have  so  often  fancied  to  myself,  with 
one  dear  companion  sharing  every  thought  and  feeling,  is  so 
great  I  can  hardly  at  times  feel  it  to  be  really  so.  Although 
to  most  people  the  prospect  of  a  curacy  on  ^700  a  year 


236  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

would  not  be  a  very  promising  prospect,  you  may  imagine 
how  very  little  it  will  affect  me,  and  how  happy  I  may  be 
with  the  smallest  possible  outward  advantages,  provided 
the  essentials  are  there,  and  of  this,  the  more  I  see  of 
Augustus,  the  more  I  feel  how  impossible  it  is  not  to  love 
him  dearly  and  entirely — indeed  there  is  far  more  fear  of 
my  loving  too  well  than  too  little,  and  of  the  present 
happiness  engrossing  every  thought  and  feeling  too  much. 
But  united  as  we  are  in  interest  about  higher  things  than 
our  mere  present  happiness,  I  do  trust  we  may  go  on 
together  through  life  improving  and  advancing  towards  a 
better  state  than  this  can  ever  be  under  its  best  aspect.  .  .  . 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  my  heart  overflows  with  love  and 
gratitude  to  all  in  this  time  of  joy,  or  how  deeply  sensible  I 
am  of  the  goodness  which  has  led  me  through  so  many 
years  of  chastening  and  useful  anxiety  to  bring  me  to  such 
a  haven  of  peace  and  happiness  as  I  cannot  but  hope  our 
little  home  will  be. 

"  Oct.  24. — Anybody  would  perhaps  be  astonished  to 
find  me  sometimes  reading  upon  resignation  and  afflictions 
in  a  time  of  rejoicing,  but  the  truth  is  I  cannot  rejoice 
without  trembling,  and  never  felt  more  strongly  the  need  of 
support  and  stay  upon  something  not  human  than  now, 
when  1  feel  my  whole  soul  is  so  engrossed  with  what  is  and 
must  be  so  uncertain  and  precarious.  I  tremble  for  myself 
and  for  him.  We  are  building  upon  a  happiness  to  come 
which  appears  so  perfect  that  I  cannot  but  feel  the  possi- 
bility of  its  not  being  realised.  In  thinking  of  the  future 
it  is  with  the  earnest  prayer  that  I  may  enjoy  what  is  given 
me  of  happiness  here,  in  subjection  and  complete  submis- 
sion to  the  divine  will,  whenever  it  is  thought  fit  to  deprive 
me  of  it.  Whichever  way  I  turn  I  see  such  causes  for 
thankfulness  that  I  know  not  how  to  give  utterance  to 
half  that  passes  through  my  mind;  at  the  same  time  I 


CHANGES. 


237 


cannot  but  feel  the  trial  that  such  a  tie  to  earth  is.  On 
this  point,  however,  I  feel  sure  that  I  cannot  remain 
stationary  with  a  companion  such  as  Augustus,  and  that 
the  duties  opening  upon  me  will  rouse  my  every  faculty 
and  exertion,  and  be  2  constant  call  to  watchfulness  and 
attention." 

"  Dec.  27. — I  find  it  increasingly  difficult  to  know  how 
far  consistently  with  a  firm  sense  of  truth  we  can  and 
may  suppress  what  we  know  and  believe  to  be  right,  and 
how  far  we  should  yield  to  the  fear  of  putting  a  stumbling- 
block  in  another's  way  by  differing  in  anything  not  essentially 
material.  There  are  some  people,  doubtless,  who  dislike 
any  stronger  feeling  of  religion  than  they  possess  themselves, 
but  I  think  the  generality  are  annoyed  by  those  little  things 
which  are  usually  marks  of  a  party  spirit,  and  which  have 
little  necessary  dependence  upon  true  faith.  I  am  sure  the 
more  we  grow  in  knowledge  and  advance  in  love,  the  more 
we  should  strive  to  preserve  that  simplicity  which  is  so 
peculiarly  the  characteristic  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  more  we 
should  guard  against  the  uncharitableness  of  supposing  that 
any  other  view  except  our  own  must  be  useless  or  erroneous. 
I  cannot  fancy  it  possible  that  one  can  ever  go  '  too  far,1 
because  the  more  one  feels  on  the  subject,  the  more  humble 
one  becomes,  and  one  clings  to  the  simple  words  of  the 
Bible  alone,  and  makes  Him  one's  pattern  who  never  turned 
any  away  because  they  were  not  entirely  perfect,  but  with 
gentleness  showed  them  how  they  might  go  on  to  perfection. 
....  If  we  analyze  ourselves,  we  may  find  ample  employ- 
ment without  judging  our  companions ;  and  in  our  own 
imperception  and  ignorance,  may  see  abundant  cause  for 
making  allowance  and  excuse  for  others,  gladly  hailing  all 
there  is  of  good,  and  trying  only  to  lead  them  on  in  that 
path  we  have  found  lead  to  happiness  by  gentleness  and 
our  own  fruits  of  the  Spirit." 


238  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


M.  L.'s  JOURNAL. 

"  Oct.  1 8. — The  die  is  cast,  and  our  fate  is  decided. 
After  the  long  years  of  uncertainty  and  suspense  attending 
every  future  prospect,  the  first  certainty  was  overpowering — 
the  first  certain  conviction  that  I  should  indeed  become  the 
wife  of  one  to  whom  every  warmest  affection  is  now  given. 
It  scarcely  yet  assumes  the  form  of  reality,  nor  do  my 
thoughts  accustom  themselves  without  surprise  to  the  pre- 
sent view  of  things.  The  break  through  old  habits,  and  the 
change  to  new,  must  be  felt  strongly  whenever  it  comes, 
and  I  feel  entering  so  completely  upon  a  new  line  of  duties, 
feelings,  and  occupations,  that  I  rejoice  to  think  I  have  a 
little  time  of  quiet  previously  to  prepare  for  it.  How  my 
heart  does  overflow  with  gratitude  whenever  I  think  of  him, 
— of  his  deep  affection,  his  tender  feelings,  his  generous  and 
disinterested  nature  !  And  the  high  and  overrated  estimate 
he  forms  of  me,  I  begin  to  feel,  so  far  from  exciting  pride 
or  vanity,  tends  to  lower  and  depress  both  by  making  me 
feel  how  little  I  really  come  up  to  it,  and  how  earnestly  I 
must  strive  hereafter  not  to  disappoint  the  expectations  he 
has  formed  of  my  character.  His  standard  is  that  of  Chris- 
tian feeling  and  action,  and  to  come  up  to  it  in  every  daily 
occurrence  of  life,  will  require  that  watchfulness  which  must 
not  slumber.  How  it  raises  and  exalts  earthly  affection 
when  it  is  joined  as  it  is  to  such  entire  confidence  and  unity 
of  feeling  on  every  subject,  and  when  the  motive  is  so  much 
the  same  !  Oh,  may  I  be  enabled  to  fulfil  this  new  part  ot 
life  in  such  a  manner  as  may  become  a  real  follower  of 
Christ — in  humbleness  and  sincerity — endeavouring  as  much 
as  possible  to  put  away  self  from  every  consideration, 
labouring  for  the  good  of  others,  submitting  without  a  mur- 
mur to  their  will,  and  seeking  so  to  temper  and  moderate 
the  strongest  feelings  of  my  nature,  that  they  may  never 


CHANGES. 


239 


draw  me  too  much  from  higher  thoughts,  making  me  love 
the  creature  more  than  the  Creator.  To  Him  may  I  show 
my  deep  and  fervent  gratitude  for  his  infinite  mercies  to  me 
by  making  his  word  the  guide  and  rule  of  every  action,  and 
striving  to  advance  each  day  in  holiness,  and  in  love  and 
charity  to  all  around  me.  How  wonderfully  have  all  things 
worked  together  for  my  good ;  and  even  those  things  which 
seemed  the  most  bitter  to  endure,  proved  the  means  of  my 
ultimate  happiness  !  Most  clearly  does  it  show  how  weak- 
sighted  and  fallacious  are  our  judgments— how  entirely  we 
ought  to  trust  to  that  power  which  overrules  everything  in 
his  mercy  for  our  real  good." 

"Dec.  13. — How  bright  a  colouring  does  the  sunshine  of 
the  mind  invest  everything  with  ! — the  everyday  enjoyments 
of  life  become  clothed  with  new  attractions,  as  the  mind  is 
invigorated  and  enlivened  by  happiness,  and  seem  to  wear  a 
different  aspect  from  what  they  once  did.  And  yet  I  pause, 
whilst  I  feel  how  bright  is  the  prospect  before  me,  and  ask, 
will  it  indeed  last  ?  The  question  may  be  asked,  and  the 
fear  come  across  as  a  shadow  over  the  gleam  of  the  sun,  but 
we  shrink  from  an  answer  to  such  a  doubt,  and  the  real  pre- 
carious and  uncertain  thread  on  which  our  whole  happiness 
depends,  is  seldom  dwelt  upon  with  anything  like  a  feeling 
of  the  truth.  There  appears  to  me,  however,  nothing  which 
can  quiet  and  ease  the  undefined  anxieties  respecting  the 
future,  but  that  firm  trust  in  the  constant  and  immediate 
superintendence  of  God,  which  is  by  so  many  frittered  away 
in  the  consideration  of  second  causes.  With  the  sure  know- 
ledge that  our  smallest  concerns  are  regulated  by  Him,  we 
may  repose  in  confidence  that  if  it  is  good  for  us  such  hap- 
piness will  be  granted ;  and  if  it  be  hereafter  chequered,  as 
we  see  is  often  the  case,  the  support  and  the  comfort  will 
come  with  the  trial " 


240  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

M.  L.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"  Stoke,  Dec.,  1828. — It  seems  unnatural  to  have  Christmas 
unaccompanied  with  frost  and  snow;  and  I  think  I  am 
almost  fond  enough  of  old  customs  and  associations  to  wish 
it  to  be  attended  with  such  natural  accompaniments,  even 
at  the  expense  of  my  own  comfort.  And  there  is  something 
so  cheerful  in  a  bright  winter's  day,  with  the  sun  shining  on 
all  the  old  women's  red  cloaks  as  they  come  to  church. 
By-the-bye,  I  was  struck  the  other  day  with  the  benefit  of 
our  regular  Liturgy,  by  hearing  from  an  old  woman  of 
eighty-seven  that  I  went  to  see,  how  much  comfort  she  de- 
rived on  her  sick-bed  from  the  remembrance  and  repetition 
of  many  of  the  collects  and  prayers,  which  by  constant  at- 
tendance at  church  she  had  treasured  up  in  her  mind, 
never  having  been  able  to  read,  or  had  any  other  oppor- 
tunity of  instruction;  and  the  simple  way  in  which  she 
described  her  filling  up  in  one  Sunday  what  she  had  not 
been  able  to  catch  or  remember  in  the  previous  one,  might 
have  shamed  many  a  wiser  and  idler  person ;  and  now  in 
the  peaceful  and  tranquil  state  of  mind  which  seems  to 
attend  her  last  days,  she  is  reaping  the  fruits  of  her  humble 
efforts.  It  is  really  a  pleasure  to  contribute  to  such  a  per- 
son's comfort.  I  feel  often  now,  in  the  prospect  of  leaving 
Stoke,  how  little  good  I  have  done  in  comparison  of  what  I 
.might  have  done  in  all  the  time  I  have  spent  here;  the 
future  must  be  better  employed  ;  and  how  delightful  it  is  to 
think  that  every  exertion  will  then  be  shared  by  my  best  and 
dearest  friend,  and  that  we  shall  together  strive  to  show  our 
gratitude  for  the  happiness  granted  to  us  by  endeavouring 
to  benefit  others  !  I  always  feel  that  '  the  situation  to  which 
God  has  called  me,'  is  so  exactly  that  suited  to  me,  and 
which  I  should  naturally  have  chosen  ;  and  I  own  that  I 
cannot  look  forward  to  our  future  life  without  feeling  my 
eyes  fill  with  tears.  I  see  others  contented  and  happy  with 


CHANGES.  241 


what  is  around  them,  satisfied  to  have  no  more  intimate 
communion  than  that  of  mere  friends  or  relations ;  but  I  am 
afraid  that  I  never  should  have  been  perfectly  happy  without 
some  one  person  to  confide  in  and  to  love." 

"New  Year's  Day,  1829. — I  must  employ  some  portion 
of  this  day  in  talking  to  him  to  whom  in  all  probability 
part  of  this  year  will  be  devoted,  if  it  be  only  to  put  on 
paper  what  must  pass  through  both  our  minds  in  entering 
on  this  new  portion  of  life — new  in  every  sense  to  us,  to 
whom  this  year  will  open,  indeed,  a  new  stage  in  our  pil- 
grimage, new  in  its  duties,  its  pleasures,  its  hopes,  and 
enjoyments.  Other  years  seemed  to  lie  like  a  blank  before 
me ;  I  could  trace  nothing  upon  them  but  the  probable 
round  of  the  same  course  of  days  and  weeks  which  had 
marked  the  preceding  one.  But  this  comes  attended  with  a 
bright  train  of  anticipations  ;  and  if  no  clouds  arise  to  dim 
our  present  sunshine,  I  am  convinced  that  it  must,  indeed, 
be  my  own  fault  if  the  close  of  1829  does  not  find  me  a 
happier  woman  than  I  have  ever  yet  been.  And  is  no 
thanks  due  to  the  past  year,  which  brought  to  both  of  us 
the  first  security  of  our  future  happiness  ?  If  one  had  the 
power  to  s/iwo,  by  conformity  to  God's  will,  one-half  the 
gratitude  with  which  at  times  one's  heart  is  ready  to  overflow 
in  thinking  of  all  He  has  done  for  us,  how  much  better  we 
should  be ;  but  I  am  afraid  we  are  too  often  engrossed  so 
entirely  b\  the  gifts  as  to  forget  the  Giver,  or  at  least  to 
forget  that  idle  acknowledgment  is  not  the  only  return  such 
love  deserves.  You  will  begin  to  suspect  I  am  inflicting  on 
you  a  part  of  that  sermon  which  I  amused  myself  on  this  day 
last  year  with  writing,  to  while  away  the  hours  at  the  Raven 
at  Shrewsbury.  But  days  like  these  are  as  resting-stones 
on  our  journey,  from  which  we  look  back  upon  the  winding 
path  through  which  we  have  arrived  at  such  a  point,  and 
onward  to  all  that  is  yet  in  store  on  the  way  open  before  us 

VOL.  i.  u 


242  MEiMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

— that  way,  dear  Augustus,  which  we  shall  in  future  travel 
together.  Thorns  and  briars,  it  may  be,  will  here  and  there 
intercept  us  and  mingle  with  the  flowers  on  each  side,  but 
guided  by  one  feeling  and  one  interest,  they  can  scarcely 
have  power  to  check  our  progress ;  and  so  long  as  we  are 
permitted  to  be  fellow  travellers,  can  we  cease  to  be 
happy  ?  " 

M.  L.  to  A.  W.  H.  (after  he  had  been  with  her  at  Alderley). 

"  Aprily  20,  1829. —  ....  It  seemed  last  night  so  like 
old  times  wishing  you  good-bye  when  you  were  to  go  by  the 
coach  early  in  the  morning ;  indeed,  more  than  once,  I 
have  been  quite  taken  back  to  our  former  meetings  in 
seeing  you  here,  and  only  recalled  to  the  present  by  the 
different — no,  not  different,  but  stronger — feelings  now 
excited.  I  have  before  my  mind's  eye  so  perfectly  those 
times  when  you  came  here  during  the  long  winter  I  spent 
here  three  years  ago — everything  you  said  and  did,  and  a 
confused  recollection  of  the  mingled  feelings  of  pleasure 
and  pain  with  which  I  then  saw  you.  I  sit  in  the  same 
place,  the  door  opens,  and  the  same  Augustus  walks  in, 
but  how  changed  is  the  feeling !  The  past,  sacred  as  it  is 
and  always  must  be,  is  now  no  longer  the  prominent  feel- 
ing ;  others  less  sad  have  taken  its  place ;  and,  happier 
than  I  ever  was  before,  I  now  look  forward  with  the  brightest 
hopes,  fearing  nothing  but  that  I  shall  place  my  happiness 
far  too  much  on  that  which  must  be  perishable." 

M.  L.'s  JOURNAL. 

"  Stoke.  May  27. — In  one  more  week  the  object  of  so 
many  thoughts  and  anxious  expectations  will  be  accom- 
plished, and  I  shall  have  entered  upon  that  new  state  from 
which  I  promise  myself  so  much  happiness.  I  can  hardly 
feel  now  as  if  such  a  change  were  drawing  so  near,  and  cer- 


CHANGES. 


243 


tainly  in  the  contemplation  of  it  am  infinitely  more  com- 
posed than  I  expected  to  be.  That  firm  confidence  which 
I  have  in  him  to  whom  I  am  about  to  commit  my  whole 
future  happiness  takes  away  every  shadow  of  distrust ;  and 
though  I  feel  at  times  that  I  am  about  to  leave  so  many 
whom  I  love  for  an  indefinite  time,  the  stronger  feeling 
overpowers  the  lesser  one,  and  I  feel  chiefly  gratitude  that 
what  so  long  appeared  doubtful  and  distant  is  now  so  nearly 
certain  of  being  realised.  We  have  been  separated  so 
much,  and  there  have  been  so  many  circumstances  which 
have  kept  up  doubt  to  the  last,  that  the  feeling  we  shall 
now  not  again  be  parted  is  in  itself  delightful  to  me  ;  and  I 
have  so  long  looked  forward  with  so  much  pleasure  to 
having  him  as  my  constant  companion,  and  our  enjoying 
life  together,  that  I  can  hardly  believe  the  time  is  now  so 
nearly  come.  I  seek  to  convince  my  sanguine  mind  that 
such  sunshine  cannot  always  last,  that  my  anticipations 
will  not  all  be  realised,  and  that  there  will  be  a  thousand 
little  rubs  and  cares  and  troubles,  of  which  I  have  made  no 
calculation,  and  which  will  interrupt  that  enjoyment  I  have 
pictured.  Be  it  so.  I  am  not  blind  to  the  changes  and 
chances  of  this  life,  to  the  certainty  that  these  are  tenfold 
increased  by  marrying,  and  that  the  anxieties  and  troubles, 
when  they  do  come,  are  of  a  much  deeper  cast  than  those 
can  be  of  a  single  state.  Were  there  no  such  vicissitudes, 
we  should  grow  too  fond  of  this  world,  too  careless  of 
another.  God  grant  only  that  such  blessings  as  He  gives 
may  never  be  misused  or  disregarded,  that  they  may  excite 
fervent  gratitude  while  they  keep  up  dependence,  and  that 
when  He  thinks  fit  to  remove  them  or  for  a  while  hide  them 
from  our  view,  we  may  resign  ourselves  entirely  to  his 
disposal,  and  bless  Him  alike  for  his  chastisement  as  for 
his  mercies.  From  the  power,  influence,  and  effect  of  a 
strong  earthly  affection  I  have  learnt  much  of  the  manner 


244  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

in  which  a  heavenly  one  should  influence  us,  and  how  irre- 
sistibly such  a  course  of  life  as  would  please  God  would  be 
the  result  of  such  a  love  to  Him  as  was  really  deep  and 
sincere.  Let  me,  then,  act  upon  this  knowledge,  and  never 
be  content  with  that  bare  acknowledgment  of  his  goodness 
which  leads  to  no  practical  end.  The  highest  gratification 
I  can  feel  is  when  I  have  done  anything  to  oblige  or  please 
Augustus,  and  the  most  painful  sensation  I  can  experience 
is  having  done  anything  he  disapproves.  Ought  I  not 
much  more  to  feel  this  with  my  Saviour  and  God  ?  May 
He  vouchsafe  me  such  aid  that  I  may  never  forget  Him, 
but  daily  grow  in  love  towards  Him,  and  by  constant 
dependence  on  Him  be  able  to  perform  all  those  new 
duties  which  I  would  now  enter  upon  with  the  spirit  of  a 
true  follower  of  Christ." 


VI. 

WEST  WOODHAY. 

"Dans  1'opinion  du  monde,  le  manage,  comme  dans  la 
come'die,  finit  tout.  C'est  pre'cise'ment  le  contraire  qui  est 
vrai :  il  commence  tout." — MADAME  SWETCHINE. 

"  Love  is  surely  a  questioning  of  God,  and  the  enjoyment 
in  it  is  an  answer  from  the  loving  God  himself." — BETTINA 
to  GOETHE. 


o 


N  the  evening  of  the  2nd  of  June,  1829,  one  of  the 
family  at  Stoke  wrote  to  Lady  Jones  : — 


"  I  am  most  happy  to  perform  the  part  allotted  to  me,  of 
filling  up  the  details  of  the  events  of  to-day,  so  as  to  make 
you  as  much  as  possible  one  of  the  party  at  Stoke ;  and  we 
only  wanted  you  and  Mrs.  Penrhyn  to  complete  the  circle 
of  those  most  interested  in  our  dear  Augustus  and  Maria. 
....  The  walk  through  the  churchyard  was  lined  with 
the  school-children,  with  wreaths  of  flowers  in  their  hands ; 
one  went  before  us  strewing  flowers  in  our  path  ;  and  all  the 
silver  spoons,  tankards,  watches,  and  ornaments  of  the 
neighbouring  farmers  were  fastened  on  white  cloths  drawn 
over  hoops,  so  as  to  make  a  sort  of  trophy  on  each  side  the 
church  gate,  which  is,  I  understand,  a  Shropshire  custom. 
The  church  was  carpeted  and  garlanded  with  flowers,  one 
arch  just  opposite  the  altar  making  a  beautiful  framework  to 


246  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

the  bride  and  bridegroom.  Maria  was  quite  composed  all 
through  the  service,  and  Augustus  looked  as  if  he  was 
indeed  imploring  a  blessing  upon  the  union  then  forming. 

"  At  two  o'clock  they  drove  away,  and  the  last  we  heard 
of  them  was  rtiat  as  they  went  through  Wistanswick,  on 
their  way  to  Newport,  the  road  was  again  lined  with  people, 
and  children,  and  flowers,  and  that  Mrs.  Augustus  Hare 
leaned  forward  and  nodded  to  them  all,  and  looked  as 
smiling  and  happy  as  ever." 

Lady  Jones  meanwhile  was  becoming  increasingly  ill 
daily  at  her  house  in  South  Audley  Street,  but  on  the  wed- 
ding day  she  had  written : — 

"  2nd  June,  1829. — I  will  not  let  this  (I  trust)  happy  day 
pass  without  sending  my  most  affectionate  kind  wishes  and 
blessing  to,  by  this  hour  (two  o'clock),  my  two  dear  children. 
I  thought  of  them  often  in  the  night,  and  never  without  my 
blessing  and  prayers  to  the  All  Good  and  Wise  Disposer  of 
all  events  for  every  happiness  in  this  life  which  will  best 
conduce  to  their  eternal  happiness  in  the  next." 

Just  before  his  marriage,  the  small  New  College  liv- 
ing of  Alton-Barnes  in  Wiltshire  had  fallen  to  Augustus 
Hare  as  Fellow  of  his  college,  and  he  had  accepted  it. 
But  the  place  to  which  he  first  took  his  bride  was 
West  Woodhay,  near  Newbury  in  Berkshire,  which  had 
been  lent  to  him  for  the  purpose  by  his  connection,  John 
Sloper.*  It  is  a  picturesque,  old-fashioned,  red-brick  manor- 
house,  with  high  roofs  and  chimneys,  embosomed  among 

*  Emilia  Shipley,  second  daughter  of  the  bishop,  married  W.  C. 
Sloper,  afterwards  of  Sundridge.  Mr.  Sloper  of  West  Woodhay  was 
her  husband's  great-nephew. 


WEST   WOODHAY.  247 


trees ;  in  front  a  lawn,  backed  by  the  swelling  downs  ;  and 
at  one  side,  almost  close  to  the  house,  the  little  church,  of 
which  Mr.  Sloper  was  the  rector.  A  more  desolate  place, 
or  one  more  entirely  secluded  from  society,  could  scarcely 
be  imagined ;  and  Mary  Lea,  one  of  the  two  maids  who  had 
accompanied  Mrs.  A.  Hare  from  Stoke,  and  who  had 
already  entered  upon  those  loving  and  devoted  ministrations 
which  were  to  last  for  her  whole  lifetime,  had  many  stories 
to  tell  afterwards  of  its  unearthly  occupants,  and  the  mys- 
terious noises  which  were  heard  there  at  night.  But  M. 
H. — as  I  will  call,  during  this  period  of  her  life,  her  who 
has  been  the  sunshine  and  blessing  of  my  own  existence,  as 
she  was  of  that  of  an  earlier  Augustus  Hare — was  very 
happy  there,  and  ever  after  remembered  the  place  with  a 
tender  affection.  The  family  history  at  this  time  is  best 
told  by  extracts  from  the  letters  which  remain : — 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  West  Woodhay  House,  June  5,  1829. — We  came  through 
the  park  at  Blenheim,  which  was  delicious  on  such  a  day, 
stopped  a  short  time  in  Oxford,  then  to  Newbury  by 
half-past  five,  and  then  carno  on  here  seven  miles  through 
the  most  charming  woody  lanes.  You  may  guess  the  delight 
with  which  we  approached  our  home,  and  found  ourselves 
here.  It  is  the  perfection  of  an  old  manor-house  —  the 
house  very  large,  which  in  this  hot  weather  is  very  agree- 
able, and  does  not  look  waste  or  dreary  as  it  might  do  in 
winter.  The  drawing-room  where  I  now  write  is  a 
capital  room,  very  well  furnished,  with  three  windows 
down  to  the  ground  opening  on  a  long  lawn  running 
up  to  the  hills,  with  trees  on  each  side, — roses  cluster- 
ing in  at  the  windows,  and  all  looking  so  retired,  I 


248  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

should  almost  say  lonely.  Then  there  is  a  very  nice 
dining-room,  and  sitting-room  for  Augustus,  besides  a  great 
hall,  and  small  library ;  and  up-stairs  my  room  is  magnifi- 
cent, and  there  is  a  large  tapestried  chamber  with  family 
pictures.  I  don't  know  how  we  are  to  come  down  to  rectory 
accommodation  afterwards.  It  seems  all  so  extraordinary 
being  here  alone,  so  completely  separated  from  everything 
and  everybody ;  and  you  would  have  laughed  to  see  me  this 
morning  with  my  two  servants,  making  out  to  the  best  of 
our  mutual  knowledge  or  ignorance  all  the  things  to  be  sent 
for,  there  being  nothing  except  what  has  been  borrowed 
from  the  farm-house  for  last  night  and  this  morning.  Mr. 
Sloper  comes  to  the  farm  to-morrow,  which  is  very  well,  to 
set  us  in  the  way  of  going  on. 

"  I  think  you  may  now  give  full  vent  to  your  fancy  in  my 
cause  without  much  fear  of  being  wrong.  All  you  imagined 
of  the  tenderness,  consideration,  and  perfect  way  in 
which  I  should  be  treated  falls  short  of  the  reality. 
When  I  am  with  Augustus  it  is  but  a  continuance  of 
that  confidence  and  openness  which  has  so  long  existed 
between  us,  only  freed  from  any  doubts  or  reserve  kept 
up  as  long  as  we  were  in  an  ambiguous  situation.  But 
it  seems  very  odd  to  find  myself  so  completely  removed 
from  all  my  own  family,  in  so  new  a  place,  and  obliged 
to  assume  the  office  of  mistress  of  a  household  to  which  I 
am  so  little  used.  I  could  scarcely  think  of  any  of  you 
without  tears  till  to-day,  and  I  do  not  know  now  that  my 
heart  is  not  very  full  in  turning  to  those  I  have  left.  It  is 
so  different  from  any  other  parting.  He  understands  it  all 
so  well,  but  says  if  all  women  suffer  as  much  in  marrying 
'ander  so  much  less  favouring  circumstances  as  generally 
are,  he  wonders  they  ever  survive  it.  .  .  .  .  This  weather 
is  perfectly  delicious.  Every  now  and  then  a  dream  conies 
over  me  of  Tuesday,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  was  now  in  another 


WEST   WOODHAY.  249 


state  of  existence.  I  scarcely  know  yet  how  to  write  col- 
lectedly and  say  what  I  feel,  for  all  is  bewildering  to  me 
at  present,  especially  to  know  myself  in  that  situation  so 
long  uncertain,  doubtful,  and  distant,  now  really  come  to 
pass  in  the  most  beautiful  form  I  have  ever  pictured  it." 

M.  H.  to  LADY  JONES. 

"  West  Woodhay,  June  6.—  Your  most  kind  and  affec- 
tionate welcome  greeted  us  here,  dearest  aunt,  last  night,  and 
greatly  did  we  both  feel  your  good  wishes  for  us  upon  that 
eventful  day  which  has  opened  so  new  a  life  to  us  both.  I 
trust  neither  you  nor  we  can  be  deceived  in  feeling  it 
to  be  the  beginning  of  such  happiness  as  is  granted  to  few 
as  far  as  regards  our  own  mutual  confidence  and  affection, 
and  though,  in  common  with  our  fellow-travellers  through 
life,  we  must  expect  to  meet  with  our  due  proportion  of 
sorrows  and  trials,  I  trust  we  may  then  rest  upon  the  same 
source  for  trust  and  support  that  we  do  now  in  gratitude. 
The  account  of  Tuesday  you  will  receive  from  Stoke,  I 
believe,  and  probably  a  more  correct  report  than  we  could 
give — at  least  it  seems  to  me  in  recurring  to  that  day 
very  much  like  a  dream,  and  I  scarcely  know  what 
passed.  It  is  a  trying  thing  and  I  felt  even  more  than 
I  expected  the  wrench,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  from  all 
former  ties  to  form  one  so  much  stronger  and  which  was  to 
last  through  life.  I  cannot  tell  you  the  tenderness  and  con- 
sideration Augustus  has  shown  me,  and  how  he  has  endeared 
himself  to  me  more  than  ever  by  the  kindness  of  his  affection 
during  the  last  few  days.  He  will  now  be  rewarded  by 
seeing  me  as  happy  as  he  could  desire,  and  in  this  delight- 
ful place  it  seems  as  if  we  could  scarcely  enjoy  ourselves 
enough.  .  .  .  The  man  waits  to  take  the  letters,  so  I  must 
conclude  with  the  dearest  love  of  your  two  grateful  and 
happy  children." 


250  MEMORIALS   OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

L.  A.  S.  (Lucy  STANLEY)  to  M.  H. 

"June  n,  1829. — You  will  well  know  how  I  have  rejoiced 
in  your  letters.  Our  visions  and  pictures  of  all  you  were 
to  enjoy  are  indeed  realised,  and  God  grant,  my  own 
dearest  and  best  friend,  they  may  long  be  lent  to  you.  I 
see  your  house  at  Woodhay,  and  know  it  as  if  I  had  seen 
it — its  green  hay-fields,  and  the  south-like  woods  and  lanes, 
so  unlike  our  northern  ones.  I  almost  feel  sorry  that  this 
home,  where  you  will  pass  the  first  weeks  of  married  life, 
is  not  to  be  your  permanent  one;  but  perhaps  you  will 
discover  as  many  charms  at  Alton-Barnes,  and  every  bank 
you  look  upon  will  now  be  Thymy,  and  every  view  sunny 
and  smiling." 

"June  22. — You  do  indeed  draw  a  picture  of  the  sunny 
Thymy  bank  so  beautiful,  that  one  cannot  help  wishing  life 

should  just  now  stand  still  for  awhile  with  you I 

hardly  ever  heard  any  description  of  happiness  after  marriage 
which  sounded  so  perfect  as  yours.  Everybody  says  and 
writes  that  they  are  happier  than  any  one  ever  was,  but  I  am 
sure  that  you  are  so." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"June  12, 1829. — We  dine  at  five  o'clock,  and  walk  after- 
wards. You  cannot  imagine  anything  more  delightful  than 
these  fields  are — so  very  extensive,  more  like  a  park,  stretch- 
ing before  the  house  in  a  long  uninterrupted  surface  of  green 
terminated  by  a  range  of  green  hills ;  and  then  the  hawthorn 
is  such  a  mass  of  snowy  white,  that  it  quite  puts  to  shame 
all  lanes  and  hedges  with  you.  What  a  different  style  of 
country  it  is  to  be  sure — so  much  more  really  retired  and 
country  it  looks  than  the  north.  I  shall  try  the  pony  in  a 
day  or  two  with  him  walking  by  my  side  ;  he  thinks  it  will 
not  run  away.  Sometimes  he  reads  to  me  a  little,  and  any- 
body  would  have  been  amused  to  see  him  one  evening  read' 


WEST  WOODHAY.  251 


ing  me  a  sermon  of  Skelton's, '  How  to  be  happy,  though 
married.'  To-day  he  has  got  down  a  volume  of  Rousseau 
out  of  the  little  old  library  in  the  drawing-room,  and  has 
read  me  some  of  the  letters  to  Julie,  which  he  calls  eloquent 
nonsense. 

"June  13. — I  am  most  perfectly  happy  and  comfortable. 
Last  night  we  had  a  delicious  walk  to  a  farm-house  about  a 
mile  off — so  pretty,  it  was  covered  with  roses  and  plants  all 
over  the  outside  of  the  house,  and  I  made  friends  with  the 
mistress,  who  sent  me  a  loaf  and  oven-cake  as  a  present. 
Breakfast  over,  I  go  to  the  kitchen,  inquire  into  matters 
there,  scold  about  the  bad  bread,  contrive  a  dinner  out  of 
nothing,  find  out  how  many  things  are  not  to  be  had  for 
asking.  '  No,  ma'am,  you  can't  have  that  because  there  is 
not  such  a  thing,'  is  my  general  answer.  Then  my  bonnet 
is  put  on,  and  we  sally  out  into  our  park,  find  out  new 
paths,  come  home,  '  Letters  and  butcher,'  and  so  there  is 
business  for  the  morning. 

"June  20. — The  last  week  has  been  very  enjoyable.  I 
have  ridden  every  day,  and  Molly  goes  quite  well,  only 
fidgeting  at  setting  out.  However  yesterday  she  gave  us  a 
fright.  We  went  up  the  hill,  higher  than  we  had  yet  been, 
to  a  point  where  was  a  gallows  erected.  It  was  exceedingly 
windy,  and  in  getting  up  the  highest  mound,  such  as  the 
beacon  at  Alderley  Edge,  the  pony  was  excited,  either  by 
the  noise  of  the  wind  against  my  hat,  or  by  its  being  so 
high ;  and  if  Augustus,  who  was  at  a  little  distance,  had  not 
seen — for  I  think  he  could  scarcely  have  heard  my  cry  of 
distress — and  hastened  to  my  aid,  in  another  minute  I 
should  have  been  galloping  away  over  those  high  downs 
as  hard  as  the  pony  could  go.  My  terror  was  momentary. 
Augustus  led  the  animal  down,  the  wind  being  too  high  for 
either  of  us  to  speak ;  but  when  we  got  under  lee  of  the 
wind,  and  the  pony  was  quiet  again,  the  fervent  way  ir. 


252  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

which  he  seized  my  hand — '  God  bless  her ! — God  be 
praised  ! ' — showed  how  he  had  been  frightened.  I  don't 
suppose  there  would  have  been  any  danger  for  a  bold  rider, 
who  would  have  given  herself  up  to  the  speed  ;  but  I  think 
I  should  have  been  too  much  frightened  to  stick  on  long. 
It  was  a  splendid  map  view,  and  our  way  home  through 
delicious  lanes. 

"  He  is  going  with  me  through  the  Greek  Testament, 
reading  two  chapters  each  morning  after  breakfast  and 
lecturing  upon  them,  he  reading  the  Greek,  I  the  English ; 
and  he  goes  into  it  thoroughly.  Sometimes  he  surprises  me 
by,  '  Now  this  is  very  difficult — I  don't  understand  this  one 
bit ; '  and  so  then  we  compare  different  passages,  see  what 
is  the  connection,  what  is  alluded  to,  &c. — in  short,  it  is  a 
very  interesting  lecture." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"June  27. — This  place  is  quite  what  I  have  so  often 
thought  the  first  home  ought  to  be,  and  what  it  so  seldom 

is  in  reality I  delight  in  our  Sundays ;  the  relief 

it  is  to  cast  one's  self  upon  Him  who  will  be  with  us  in  joy  as 
in  sorrow,  and  upon  whom  we  may  repose  with  sure  con- 
fidence those  trembling  feelings  of  joy,  whose  uncertainty  is 
often  felt,  showing  us  the  need  of  support  even  in  rejoicing. 
I  longed  for  you  to  have  been  here  last  Sunday  to  have 
heard  my  husband  in  the  church.  His  preaching  is  so 
earnest,  and  brings  the  subject  so  home,  that  I  cannot  but 
feel  all  the  time  it  must  be  doing  good,  and  if  his  peculiar 
manner  has  the  effect  of  rousing  attention,  it  is  certainly 
useful.  Then  he  cordially  unites  with  me  in  every  plan  of 
considering  the  good  of  our  little  household,  and  I  look 
forward  with  still  greater  pleasure  to  all  that  we  shall  join  in 
when  we  have  our  own  parish.  I  can  hardly  tell  which 
part  of  our  day  is  the  most  enjoyable;  but  perhaps  our 


WEST   WOODHAY.  253 


evening  walk  or  ride  is  the  most  so.  Do  not  you  know  the 
pleasure  of  hunting  about  in  a  library  full  of  odd  volumes 
and  old  editions  of  books,  all  mixed  in  strange  confusion  ? 
We  found  yesterday  an  old  '  Pilgrim's  Progress,'  with  queer 
cuts  and  engravings,  which  was  amusing  to  look  over.  He 
is  reading  Milton  to  me,  and  sometimes  Wordsworth,  and 
anything  else  called  forth  by  the  occasion.  Then  he  enjoys 
a  little  song,  and  there  is  a  very  tolerable  large  pianoforte  for 
me  to  play  to  him  upon." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S.   (the  same  evening). 

"  Augustus  and  I  were  in  the  midst  of  our  reading  an 
hour  ago,  when  a  chaise  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  in 
walked  Mr.  Sloper.  His  first  words  were,  that  Lady 
Jones  was  scarcely  expected  to  live  through  the  day, 
and  Augustus  would  just  have  time  by  the  return  chaise  to 
catch  the  coach.  There  was  a  note  from  Julius,  begging 
him  to  come  immediately.  You  may  guess  the  hurry  and 
agitation  of  the  moment,  the  putting  up  his  things,  &c.,  and 
now,  almost  without  my  knowing  it  has  been  so,  he  is  gone. 
Yesterdav  she  was  very  ill  indeed.  There  was  a  consul- 
tation of  Brodie,  Warren,  £c.  The  latter  thought  very  ill  of 
her,  and  feared  for  to-day.  Mrs.  Warren*  was  with  her  till 
past  eleven  last  night,  thought  once  or  twice  she  was  gone. 
She  rallied  however  a  little,  but  Mr.  Sloper  seems  to  think 
she  cannot  get  over  this  attack.  I  do  hope  Augustus  may 
arrive  in  time  to  see  her,  and  I  feel  quite  rejoiced  to  have 
him  off.  How  one  regrets  that  she  has  not  lived  to  benefit 
by  the  happiness  she  has  given.  I  feel  easier  on  this  point 
now  that  I  have  seen  her  in  London,  and  that  he  will  feel 

*  Penelope  Shipley,  eldest  daughter  of  the  Dean  of  St.  Asaph, 
married  (1814)  Dr.  Pelham  Warren,  the  eminent  physician.  Of  a 
most  unselfish  and  charming  disposition,  she  was  greatly  beloved  by 
all  the  family.  She  died  in  1865. 


254  MEMORIALS   OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

she  did  know  me.  How  thankful  I  am  to  be  his  wife — able 
to  comfort  him,  and  with  the  right  to  know  and  hear  every- 
thing. We  had  no  time  for  any  words  when  he  was  leaving, 
except  his  reminding  me  of  a  dream  he  had  about  his  aunt 
a  week  ago  :  that  she  puzzled  him  by  saying  she  was  going 
into  the  J3arn,  when  he  asked  about  her  coming  to  Wort- 
ing,  and  which  he  made  out,  still  in  his  dream,  by  the  text 
of  the  wheat  being  gathered  into  the  garner  ;  and  he  said  to 
me  at  the  time,  '  Remember  my  telling  you  this.'  I  got 
a  note  from  her,  written  some  days  ago,  full  of  affection, 
and  thanking  me  for  knitting  her  some  muffitees.  .  .  . 
Dearest  Augustus !  how  I  shall  feel  now  he  is  gone  the 
increase  of  love  in  the  last  three  weeks.  We  were  saying 
yesterday  how  it  seemed  to  grow  every  day,  and  how  it  was 
quite  a  grief  to  him  to  think  of  it ;  for  it  could  not  last,  we 
had  no  right  to  be  so  much  happier  than  other  people.  .  .  . 
How  naturally  I  fall  to  writing  to  you  in  any  emergency, 
that  you  may  share  with  me  every  feeling." 

JULIUS  HARE  to  M.  H. 

"South  Audley  Street,  June  27. — Augustus  will  probably 
have  left  you  before  this,  and  you  will  rejoice  to  hear  he 
will  have  the  comfort  of  finding  my  aunt  considerably  better. 
This  morning  she  said  she  was  a  great  deal  better  than 
yesterday.  When  I  was  reading  some  of  the  prayers  for  the 
sick,  she  asked,  '  Is  there  not  one  for  rendering  thanks  for 
an  amendment  of  health  ? '  Still,  though  the  danger  is 
averted  for  the  present,  I  am  afraid  we  must  not  indulge  the 
hope,  even  if  we  ought  to  cherish  the  wish,  of  keeping  her 
long  amongst  us.  Her  general  weakness  is  so  great,  and 
seems  rather  increasing  than  diminishing,  that  her  constitu- 
tion, however  naturally  strong,  will  hardly  be  able  to  hold 
out  much  longer ;  and  when  her  life  is  so  much  more 
thickly  beset  with  suffering  than  with  enjoyment,  even  those 


WEST   WOODHAY.  255 


who  will  grieve  most  at  losing  such  an  object  to  love  and 
revere,  ought  hardly  to  desire  that  she  should  be  detained 
from  her  heavenly  reward. 

"  God  bless  you,  and  make  you  and  Augustus  the  endless 
source  of  happiness  to  each  other.  He  will  probably  soon 
need  you  to  replace  his  best  counsellor  and  friend,  and  he  is 
fortunate  in  having  already  secured  so  good  a  substitute.  I 
hope  some  time  or  other  to  be  a  witness  of,  and  therefore  a 
partaker  in,  your  happiness. 

"  John  Sloper  has  been  as  kind  and  attentive,  and  almost 
as  one  of  her  own  nephews,  to  my  aunt" 

A.  W.  H.  to  M.  H. 

"  South  Audley  Street,  June  28. — Though  Julius  wrote  to 
relieve  your  anxiety  yesterday,  I  presume  the  loving  wife 
will  send  over  to  Newbury  for  the  letter  I  promised  by  the 
night  coach,  and  her  messenger  must  not  return  empty- 
handed.  Alas  !  though  there  is  an  improvement  in  my  aunt, 
it  can  only  be  a  question  of  weeks  or  days. 

"  At  Newbury  I  heard  the  last  coach  had  been  gone  half 
an  hour.  '  Horses  immediately.'  At  twenty  minutes  after 
four  I  was  driving  up  to  the  inn  at  Reading,  having  gone 
seventeen  miles  in  an  hour  and  a  half.  '  Is  the  last  coach 
gone  ? '  '  No,'  said  the  landlord,  '  it  is  changing  horses  at 
this  minute.'  '  Gallop  on,  driver  ! '  He  did,  and  we  caught 
it  before  it  started.  There  was  an  inside  place,  so  in  I  got, 
and  by  nine  P.M.  was  at  home.  You  may  conceive  my 
joy  when  the  servant  who  opened  the  door  said,  '  Her 
ladyship  is  much  better.' 

"  June  29. — What  a  delightful  note,  dearest,  did  you  send 
to  greet  my  waking  this  morning,  and  make  me  feel  less 
solitary  and  widowed,  shall  I  say,  or  more.  It  is  just  so  I 
would  have  wished  my  wife  to  write  and  think,  years  before 
I  had  one,  and  when  the  name  was  little  more  than  an  idea 


256  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

to  me.  To  find  that  idea  realised  in  my  own  Mia,  is  a 
blessing  a  thousand  times  too  great  for  me,  did  God  mea- 
sure out  his  bounty  according  to  our  deserts,  and  not  rather 
pour  it  out  of  his  exceeding  bountifulness  and  loving- 
kindness. 

"  My  aunt  is  slightly  better.  Her  nurses  have  hitherto 
been  my  aunt  Louisa  and  Penelope  alternately.  Dear, 
good,  affectionate  Penelope  would  never  dream  of  feeling 
tired,  or  own  that  she  was  so,  till  she  dropt ;  but  drop  she 
will  if  this  attendance  lasts  much  longer,  and  it  may  go  on 
for  weeks.  Julius  has  formed  a  plot  for  you  to  come  up 
and  relieve  her  a  little  by  sharing  her  duties.  Alas  !  if  my 
aunt  had  done  two  years  ago  what  she  has  so  nobly  done 
for  us  this  year,  she  would  have  had  you  now  to  comfort 
her.  As  it  is,  you  are  still  so  much  of  a  stranger  to  her, 
that  there  is  some  fear  of  her  not  feeling  sufficiently  at  ease 
with  you  in  her  infirmities.  My  belief  is  that  three  days 
would  get  over  the  difficulty,  and  make  your  presence  a 
continual  joy  to  her.  I  only  mention  this,  that  you  may 
not  be  surprised  if  you  receive  a  summons.  You  would 
come,  of  course,  to  a  lodging ;  you  would  come  to  attend 
on  a  sick  person ;  you  would  have  to  exercise  much  judg- 
ment and  steadiness ;  but  you  would  feel  that  you  were 
of  use  to  her  who  has  united  us,  you  would  be  sensible 
it  is  the  only  return  in  all  probability  you  will  be 
allowed  to  make  her,  and  you  would  rejoice  that  at  the 
sacrifice  of  some  personal  convenience  you  are  permitted 
to  minister  a  degree  of  satisfaction  and  ease  to  her  last 
moments." 

M.  H.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"  West  Woodhay,  June  30. — What  a  joy  to  me  have 
your  letters  been  this  morning.  It  is  in  such  times  as 
these  that  one  feels  the  full  delight  of  the  perfect  con- 


WEST   WOODHAY.  25; 


fidence  there  is  between  us.  I  felt  so  sure  of  your  under- 
standing what  my  feeling  would  be  about  your  aunt,  that  it 
was  quite  unnecessary  to  express  it.  I  think  if  I  came  I 
might  be  of  some  little  use,  though  less  I  fear  than  many, 
with  equal  goodwill,  from  my  awkwardness  and  inexperience. 
But  in  this,  as  in  everything  else,  do  and  order  as  seemeth 
you  best;  here  I  am,  your  devoted  wife,  whose  highest 
happiness  is  to  do  what  you  think  it  right  she  should  do. 

"  Do  not  be  very  vain  when  I  tell  you  that  there  was  a 
very  large  congregation  on  Sunday  evening,  great  part  of 
which  was  much  disappointed  at  not  hearing  you  preach — 
for  which  laudable  purpose  they  had  gone  to  church !  So 
you  see  your  sermon  of  the  Sunday  before  gained  other  ap- 
probation besides  that  of  your  partial  Mia. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  how  much  I  miss  you,  nor  tantalisa 
you  with  thinking  what  a  delicious  walk  we  should  have  had 
yesterday  evening  after  the  rain  ceased  ;  but  somehow  or 
other  Woodhay  does  not  look  so  gay  and  cheerful  as  it  did 
some  few  days  ago,  and  I  hear  no  laughing  voices  sound- 
ing in  its  passages." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"June  30. — I  am  satisfied  to  have  had  our  first  month  of 
enjoyment  unsullied.  That  enjoyment  has  been  so  great 
as  to  make  me  only  the  more  anxious  to  show  my  gra- 
titude to  her  who  has  given  it,  and  to  gratify  him  by  the 
full  extent  of  whose  tenderness  and  consideration  I  have 
benefited  by  so  much.  The  separation  of  this  week  will 
icconcile  me  to  being  in  any  place  with  him,  though 
the  exchange  of  Woodhay  delights  for  a  lodging,  with 
summer-days  to  be  passed  in  a  sick-room  in  London,  is 
not  exactly  what  one  should  choose.  But  there  is  no  help, 
and  I  doubt  not  if  it  is  to  be,  we  shall  find  ample  cause  to 
rejoice  in  having  done  it. 

VOL.  i.  s 


258  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIKE. 

"  I  thought  this  morning  what  a  pleasure  there  is  in  the 
power  of  sending  one's  one  servant  off  to  the  post  just  at  the 
time  he  ought  to  be  bringing  in  breakfast — submitting  to  the 
indignity  of  having  the  coffee  brought  by  a  maid  rather  than 
wait  for  the  letters.  No  quantity  of  servants  or  money 
could  make  rne  feel  more  independent  than  the  perfect 
command  which  marriage  gives  one  over  the  few  one  has, 
and  the  complete  choice  left  to  one's  self  which  inconveniences 
to  choose.  I  have  just  regained  strength  and  spirits  enough 
to  enter  upon  the  new  duties  awaiting  me,  if  so  it  is  to  be. 
How  destined  my  life  seems  to  be  not  to  stagnate.  I  look 
forward  to  Alton  as  quite  a  haven  of  rest  and  peace.  As 
much  as  anything  I  dread  the  jealousies  there  will  be  about 
my  being  with  Lady  Jones ;  however,  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  that." 

M.  H.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"July  i. — How  I  did  want  you  yesterday  to  admire  the 
most  glorious  sunset.  Mr.  Barker,  or  Burford,  or  whatever 
is  the  name,  might  have  taken  some  good  hints  for  his  Pan- 
demonium in  that  glowing  sea  of  fire,  with  the  streams 
issuing  out  of  it,  and  the  splendid  battlements  of  clouds 
piled  one  above  another  closing  it  in.  Even  Mr.  Sloper 
was  obliged  to  stand  still  and  admire  it,  in  spite  of  the 
ominous  appearance  for  the  hay ;  and  truly  it  has  not  de- 
ceived us,  for  to-day  the  heavens  seem  inclined  to  pour  out 
their  utmost  fury  upon  us,,  and  it  will  be  well  if  you  find 
anything  remaining  of  Woodhay  floating  on  the  top  of  the 
waters  when  you  return. 

"  Let  me  take  advantage  of  Mr.  Sloper's  absence  among 
his  workpeople,  to  draw  near  to  my  Augustus  and  tell  him 
how  he  lives  in  my  thoughts.  I  can  no  longer  cheat  myself 
with  the  fancy  that  he  is  ensconced,  book  in  hand,  pre- 
tending to  write  letters  of  business  in  the  library;  nor  flatter 


WEST   WOODHAY.  259 


myself  with  the  idea  that  he  is  pacing  the  tapestry-room 
for  exercise  this  rainy  day.     It  seems  to  assume  a  very  real 

air  of  separation  now " 

" July  2. — The  account  to-day  is  most  disheartening. 
That  our  dear  aunt  may  be  spared  further  pain  is  now  all 
that  we  can  hope  or  pray  for  her  in  this  world.  Would  that 
I  had  gone  with  you  and  could  have  shared  the  anxiety  and 
attendance  of  those  who  have  so  devoted  themselves  to  her 
last  days,  and  to  whom  it  will  be  a  lasting  satisfaction  to  feel 
that  they  have  done  so.  But  this  could  not  be,  and  I  only 
feel  thankful  that  you  have  yourself  been  able  to  be  with 
her  to  the  last.  I  have  had  a  very  distressing  thing  to  do 
this  morning,  in  breaking  to  Ravenscroft  (the  cook)  the 
sudden  death  of  a  sister  to  whom  she  was  much  attached. 
She  was  in  sad  affliction,  and  it  went  to  my  heart  to  cause 
so  much  grief;  but  there  could  not  be  a  time  when  such  a 
communication  would  be  made  with  more  sympathy  than 
after  receiving  your  sad  letter,  and  feeling  that  ere  this  you 
probably  are  mourning  the  departure  of  one  who  has  so  long 
been  an  object  of  interest  and  anxiety.  Dearest,  how  I  wish 
to  be  with  you  it  is  needless  to  say.  You  are  with  those  who 
feel  as  you  do,  you  will  have  much  to  do,  and  you  know 
that  when  the  time  comes,  and  everything  is  done  that  can  be 
done,  and  you  have  paid  the  last  tribute  of  respect  and  affec- 
tion to  her  who  has  been  so  kind  to  you  from  childhood,  you 
will  find  me  to  feel  for  you  and  with  you,  and  who  through 
life  will  seek  to  be  your  comforter  and  friend .  I  cannot  tell  you 
how  glad  I  am  that  this  has  not  happened  before.  As  your 
wife  I  may  share  every  feeling,  and,  as  far  as  earthly  comfort 
can  go,  contribute  all  I  can  to  replace  what  you  will  lose." 

A.  W.  H.  to  M.  H. 

"Juty  2- — She  is  much  weaker.  All  muscular  power  has 
ceased.  When  lying  quite  back  in  her  chair  she  seems 


260  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

easiest.  The  fire  is  going  out  for  want  of  fuel.  The  pulse 
proves  the  vitality  which  still  remains,  but  the  machine  is 
worn  out.  Penelope  still  insists  on  sitting  up  every  night. 
There  is  an  occasional  cheerfulness  in  my  aunt's  manner, 
and  a  constant  thought  and  care  about  others,  which  are 
the  best  practical  Christianity,  and  worth  all  the  sermons  in 
the  world. 

"Juty  3- — '  Much  the  same,  but  feebler,  and,  if  possible, 
thinner,'  is  Dr.  Warren's  report  to-day.  Her  senses  are 
growing  dimmer.  Last  night,  for  the  first  time,  she  did  not 
make  me  out.  This  morning  she  did  not  know  Julius,  and 
Penelope  doubted  if  she  knows  anybody.  The  greatest 
comfort  is  that  she  is  calm  and  quiet,  and  apparently  suffers 
little.  She  often  smiles;  and  her  talk,  as  far  as  I  have 
heard  it,  though  wandering,  is  on  agreeable  subjects. 

"July  6. — My  black  seal  and  paper  will  have  announced 
to  you  that  all  is  over.  She  was  called  from  us  at  ten 
minutes  after  nine  this  morning.  Nothing  could  be  easier 
than  her  departure.  She  literally  expired,  or  breathed  away 
her  soul,  without  a  struggle  or  a  groan.  Shall  we  envy  or 
grudge  her  the  reward  of  her  years  on  years  of  active 
munificence  ?  " 

M.  H.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"  West  Woodhay,July  8. — My  own  dearest  Augustus,  you 
know  how  I  feel  with  you — how  every  thought  and  feeling 
goes  along  with  you — in  recurring  to  the  many  years  of 
kindness  and  affection  which  must  come  before  you,  in 
feeling  that  she  to  whom  you  have  so  long  looked  for 
assistance  and  guidance,  who  has  been  an  object  of  such 
long  anxiety  and  interest,  is  indeed  gone.  How  grateful  I 
am  that  I  have  seen  her,  and  to  have  the  impression  which 
none  but  personal  evidence  can  give  of  what  she  was,  and 
still  more  grateful  am  I  to  have  the  power  now  of  sharing 


WEST   WOODHAY.  261 


your  grief  and  seeking  to  fill  up  the  chasm  her  loss  must 
have  made  to  you " 

Very  little  doubt  had  been  entertained  before  the  death 
of  Lady  Jones  as  to  the  contents  of  her  will.  To  Mr. 
Sloper,  to  Dr.  Warren,  and  to  other  friends,  she  had 
frequently  spoken  of  it ;  and  all  her  relations  believed  that 
she  had  left  her  property  at  Worting  to  Mrs.  Warren 
(Penelope  Shipley),  her  house  in  South  Audley  Street  to 
Francis  Hare,  a  legacy  to  Julius,  and  the  residue  of  her 
property,  with  her  library,  pictures,  and  furniture,  to  Augus- 
tus, whom  she  had  always  regarded  as  her  adopted  son. 
After  her  death,  however,  the  rightful  will  was  never  found, 
and  it  was  supposed  that  she  had  destroyed  it  when  her 
mind  was  enfeebled  by  her  last  illness,  mistaking  it  for  the 
old  will,  which  was  found,  and  which  was  inscribed — "  To 
be  burnt."  To  all  the  three  brothers  this  was  a  great 
distress  as  well  as  a  serious  loss. 

A.  W.  H.  to  M.  H. 

"July  7  1829,  South  Audley  Street. — Dearest,  dearest 
Mia.  How  providential  our  marriage  took  place  when  it 
did !  Had  it  been  delayed  another  month,  it  might  not 
have  taken  place  for  years.  My  aunt,  the  most  methodical 
of  women,  and  possessing  an  amount  of  clear  understanding 
which  would  have  done  credit  to  the  best  men  of  business, 
she,  with  all  her  minuteness  of  detail,  has  left  two  wills  in 
the  same  envelope,  and  in  such  a  state  that  it  seems  clear 
the  second  is  good  for  nothing,  and  the  chief  question  is, 
whether  it  invalidates  the  first.  If  it  does,  she  has  died 
intestate ;  if  it  does  not,  her  money  goes  almost  entirely 
(for  the  greater  part  of  it  will  certainly  go)  to  the  last  pos 


262  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

sible  persons  in  the  world  she  would  have  wished.  And  as 
for  Worting,  it  is  not  even  named ;  though  she  had  promised 
it  to  Dr.  Warren,  and,  it  is  quite  clear,  meant  to  give  it  him. 

"  The  last  will,  which  has  the  signature  obliterated,  and 
'  this  to  be  burnt '  written  at  the  bottom,  is  dated  as  far  back 
as  1821.  The  other  is  a  will  of  1809,  when  my  sister  was 

alive,  and  is  chiefly  in  her  favour However,  thank 

God  !  her  life  was  spared  long  enough  to  carry  into  partial 
effect  her  kind  and  generous  intentions  in  my  behalf. 

"July  8. — Old  Lewis,  the  Worting  bailiff,  has  written, 
'  No  doubt  our  loss  is  her  ladyship's  gain,  and  her  dear  soul 
is  at  rest.'  His  letter  is  perfect  in  its  way,  from  its  serio- 
comic mixture  of  genuine  feeling  with  scraps  of  book  and 
sermon  phrases.  He  talks  of  '  How  much  she  will  be 
nr'ssed  by  the  poor  of  Worting,  and  regretted  by  all.' 
She  will  be  missed,  indeed,  unless  the  search  to-morrow  at 
Worting  after  a  will  is  successful,  and  produces  some 
inheritor  of  her  kind-heartedness  as  well  as  of  her  land.  I 
have  myself  not  a  doubt  that  it  will  produce  it.  The  more 
Julius  and  I  have  compared  our  thoughts  on  the  matter,  the 
more  certain  we  are  that  my  aunt-  has  not  by  negligence,  in 
the  most  important  arrangement  of  her  life,  contradicted 
sixty  years,  or  more,  of  methodical  and  provident  activity. 

"July  9. — Doubtless  there  is  another,  and  of  course  a 
perfect  will.  So  many  circumstances  on  inquiry  have  come 
out,  all  pointing  the  same  way,  that  the  fact  appears  to  me 
as  certain  as  anything  can  be,  which  rests  only  on  pro- 
babilities and  presumptions.  It  was  made  about  last 
Michaelmas,  and  it  cannot  have  been  destroyed  since. 
Mislaid  it  may  have  been ;  but  sooner  or  later  it  will  be 
found.  Perhaps  it  is  so  now,  or  at  least  it  will  be,  ere  I 
finish  my  letter,  for  Francis,  Julius,  Mr.  Seton  (our  good 
lawyer),  and  Charles  Shipley,  set  out  in  a  britska  this  morn- 
ing at  seven,  for  Worting;  and,  allowing  them  six  hours 


WEST   WOODHAV.  263 


for  their  journey,  they  are  at  this  moment  searching  for  it. 
They  return  to-night,  but  it  will  be  late  before  they  can  get 
back.  It  is  for  the  sake  of  justice,  and  of  seeing  my  dear 
aunt's  intentions  (whatever  they  may  be)  carried  into  full 
effect — it  is  that  those  who  have  equitable  claims  on  her, 
and  that  the  poor,  may  not  be  deprived  of  what  she 
destined  for  them,  and  not  from  any  personal  interests  of 
my  own,  that  I  am  anxious  to  have  her  will  produced. 

"July  to. — You  will  grieve  to  hear  that  our  expectations 
have  been  sadly  disappointed.  Worting  has  produced 
nothing.  That  a  will  was  made  at  the  time  she  obliterated 
the  signature  from  the  will  of  1821,  and  that  she  believed  it, 
or  some  subsequent  one,  to  be  in  existence,  is  quite  certain, 
from  fifty  speeches  during  the  last  two  months.  Whether  it 
has  been  destroyed  by  accident,  or  laid  by  too  securely  to 
be  found,  I  know  not.  It  is  not  forthcoming,  and  perhaps 
never  may  be  ;  but  to  Julius  and  me,  and  indeed  to  all  who 
love  her,  and  not  her  property,  it  is  a  great  consolation  that 
thio  inconvenience,  grievous  and  manifold  as  it  is,  is  not 
aggravated  by  a  conviction — no,  nor  even  by  a  suspicion — 
that  she  was  procrastinating  or  neglectful  about  her  last  and 
most  important  worldly  act.  In  the  meantime  a  suit — an 
amicable  suit,  for  so  I  find  they  call  those  suits  which 
provoke  more  ill-blood  than  any  other — must  be  instituted  in 
Doctors'  Commons ;  and  if  the  second  will  is  not  quashed 
there,  the  interpretations  of  the  last  clause  carries  us,  still 
amicably — it  is  wonderful  how  amicable  people  are  when 
their  dirty  interests  are  engaged — into  the  very  pleasant  Court 
of  Chancery.  God  show  us  the  way  out  of  all  such  evils ! " 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Juty  I2- — I  wi§h  vou  could  know  that  at  this  moment 
I  have  got  him  back.  Mr.  Sloper  being  too  ill  to  return 
yesterday  for  his  duty  to-day,  Augustus  was  obliged  to  put 


264  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

aside  his  scruples  about  leaving  the  house  in  South  Audley 
Street,  and  come  in  his  place,  and  you  may  imagine  what  a 
meeting  we  had  about  eight  o'clock  last  night.  If  he  had  been 
dead  and  risen  to  life  again,  I  could  scarcely  have  felt  more 
in  having  him  again.  He  looks  most  wretchedly,  so  thin 
and  care-worn,  and  has  been  made  quite  ill.  He  consulted 
Dr.  Warren,  who  said,  'You  have  come  from  the  extreme  of 
happiness  to  the  extreme  of  misery,  and  the  revulsion  has 
been  too  great.  Go  home  to  your  wife,  and  she  and  quiet 
will  be  better  than  all  the  medicines  in  the  world.'  It  seems 
quite  clear  that  there  must  have  been  a  subsequent  will, 
even  if  she  destroyed  it  by  mistake.  Francis  seems  to  have 
behaved  very  well.  In  giving  directions  the  first  day  after 
her  death,  he  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears,  and  could  not  go 
on.  When  the  will  leaving  a  thousand  pounds  to  him  was 
read,  he  proposed  at  once  its  being  divided  between  Julius 
and  Marcus.  In  case  neither  of  the  wills  are  good  for 
anything,  the  property  would  be  equally  divided  amongst 
the  brother  and  sisters'  children — giving  thus  one  share 
to  the  Dean's  children,  one  to  Mrs.  Hare's  children, 
one  to  Mrs.  C.  L.  Shipley,  and  one  to  Mrs.  Sloper's  only 
child,  Mrs.  Charles  Warren,  so  of  course  the  Hares'  proportion 
for  each  would  be  small.  Lady  Jones  leaves  ^3,000  in  one 
of  the  wills  to  charities.  It  is  very  puzzling,  very  annoying, 
and  likely  to  be  a  long  source  of  discussion.  Everything 
else  found  is  order  and  method  itself — letters  all  ticketed  in 
packets,  '  For  Augustus  and  Julius  to  read,  and  afterwards  to 
be  burnt,'  and  the  same  to  others.  All  accounts  are  paid 
up  to  Easter.  Augustus  heard  her  mutter  to  herself,  'All 
my  worldly  affairs  are  settled,  servants  and  all.'  A  few  days 
before  her  death  she  dictated  as  clearly  as  possible  a 
beautiful  letter  to  Lord  Spencer.  A  year  ago  he  had  asked 
for  Sir  J.  Reynolds's  portrait  of  Sir  W.  Jones,  evidently  wish- 
ing to  complete  his  collection.  She  was  affronted,  and  re 


WEST   WOODHAY.  265 


fused.  This  letter  was  to  tell  him  she  had  reconsidered  his 
request,  thought  Sir  W.  J.  would  have  wished  him  to  have 
it,  and  begged  his  acceptance  of  it ;  that  she  had  now  but 
a  few  days,  perhaps  hours,  to  live,  and  could  not  be 
satisfied  without  employing  her  nephew  Julius,  as  she  was 
too  ill,  to  write ;  spoke  of  the  mortification  she  had  felt  in 
his  doing  nothing  to  promote  Marcus,  which  she  had  so 
much  at  heart ;  but  as  worldly  things  had  become  of  less 
import,  the  pain  she  had  felt  on  this  account  had  diminished, 
and  she  heartily  forgave  it  to  him,  and  hoped  he  would 
equally  forgive  any  hasty  word  she  might  have  used  in 
speaking  on  the  subject ;  that  she  had  now  great  pleasure  in 
complying  with  his  request,  and  had  always  retained  the 
sincerest  affection  for  him.  She  begged  it  might  be  sealed 
with  black,  and  sent  when  she  was  gone,  and  she  then 
seemed  satisfied  that  everything  was  done.  The  brothers 
give  Mrs.  Pelham  Warren  a  diamond  ring  with  Lady  Jones's 
hair  in  gratitude  for  her  attentions.  Augustus  says  Julius 
cried  himself  into  a  fever  on  the  day  of  the  death." 

A.  W.  H.  to  M.  H. 

"Jufy  *7- — John  Sloper  will  tell  my  dearest  Mia  all  the 
particulars  about  the  funeral — how  Julius  read  the  service 
over  her,  slowly,  distinctly,  and  with  a  voice  that  scarcely 
faltered ;  how,  after  it  was  over,  the  brothers  walked  down 
with  Charles  Shipley  to  the  church  to  fix  on  a  place  for 
her  monument ;  how  liberally  and  with  what  disinterested- 
ness Charles  has  behaved  in  the  scheme  he  has  drawn  up 
for  a  compromise ;  and  all  other  how's  which  you  would 
have  a  painful  interest  in  hearing." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  West  IVoodhay,  July  19. — I  think  1  wrote  on  Thursday 
night  after  Penrhyn  went.  Friday  was  a  thorough  wet  day 


266  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

again.  I  had  my  fire,  and  wrote  out  a  long  extract  from 
Blackstone  about  New  College  and  Winchester,  Founder's 
kin,  &c.,  as  I  was  ordered,  and  was  thinking  how  comfort- 
able one  could  always  be  when  left  quite  alone,  when  in 
walked  Mr.  Sloper.  However,  he  brought  me  a  letter  from 
Augustus,  and  the  latest  news  about  the  funeral,  &c.  Julius 
read  the  service.  Nobody  attended  but  the  servants,  the 
three  brothers,  Charles  Shipley,  Mr.  Seton,  and  himself. 
The  only  news  about  the  will  is  that  they  have  found  some 
money  in  the  French  funds,  making  her  property  amount  to 
above  ^60,000.  They  say  Mrs.  C.  Warren  is  sure  to  do 
what  is  right  and  handsome,  and  Mr.  Sloper  is  very 
anxious  she  should,  as  she  is  his  cousin.  Then  Shipley 
Comvy,  who  is  heir-at-law  to  Worting,*  has  written  in  the 
handsomest  manner  to  Dr.  Warren,  saying  that  his  aunt  did 
not  intend  him  to  have  it,  and  as  she  had  declared  her  wish 
that  he  should  have  it,  he  shall  certainly  make  it  over  to 
Dr.  Warren — a  fine  thing  to  do,  as  ,£7,000  might  have  been 
too  great  a  temptation  to  give  up  at  twenty-two.  She  in- 
tended to  have  founded  two  scholarships  out  of  Worting, 
which  I  believe  Dr.  Warren  will  do,  and  he  has  some  land 
in  Wales,  which  he  will  probably  give  to  Shipley  Conwy — 
near  St.  Asaph — so  it  will  be  a  system  of  giving  up  and 
giving.  I  find  the  envelope  to  all  the  papers  was  evidently 
new,  and  not  written  above  a  year  ago.  This  seems  to  me 
decisive  that  the  new  will  was  put  into  the  same  cover, 
and  that  it  has  been  wrongly  destroyed.  To  be  sure  it  is 
provoking ! 

"  You  may  guess  how  impatient  I  am  to  hear  about 
Alton-Barnes.  When  once  settled,  I  think  I  shall  be  so 
happy  I  shall  not  know  what  to  do.  There  is  something  so 
enlivening  in  having  real  things  to  do,  and  I  shall  be 
so  busy  in  making  my  garden  and  everything  nice.  I 

*  His  father,  William  Shipley,  was  eldest  son  of  the  Dean  of  St. 
Asaph. 


WEST  WOODHAY.  267 


begin  to  feel  a  little  more  naturalised,  and  less  as  in  a 
dream. 

"July  26,  1829. — I  am  glad  you  feel  the  comfort  of  my 
details,  and  that  you  find  in  this  I  am  not  as  yet  changed ; 
indeed,  I  know  not  how  it  could  be  otherwise,  and  with  one 
who  has  so  long  shared  every  thought  and  interest.  I  feel 
as  if  I  could  hardly — separated  as  we  are  likely  to  be — tell 
enough  of  all  I  feel  to  make  up  for  the  want  of  personal 
observations  and  intercourse.  I  regret  so  often  that  it  will 

be  so  long  before  you  see  us  as  we  are He  has  been 

very  busy  composing  his  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Winchester 
about  the  evils  of  Founder's  kin,  which  plague  him  much, 
and  he  walks  up  and  down  the  great  saloon  up-stairs  half 
the  day.  I  do  not  know  what  he  is  to  do  at  Alton  with 
rooms  too  small  for  any  quarter-deck — here  he  has  been  so 
spoilt  by  having  such  great  space  for  his  pacings.  Then  on 
Friday  came  a  notice  to  Mr.  Sloper  of  a  confirmation  whilst 
he  is  away,  so  Augustus  will  have  to  prepare  the  people  for 
it.  He  is  certainly  very  queer  about  his  writing ;  whilst  he 
takes  such  time  often  to  write  a  letter,  at  other  times  he  is 
equally  rapid.  Yesterday  before  service  he  was  about  ten 
minutes  writing  a  sheet-full  upon  confirmation,  which  aftei 
his  sermon  he  brought  out,  with  the  bishop's  letter,  and  I 
dare  say  surprised  the  people  not  a  little,  telling  them  how, 
a  stranger  amongst  them,  he  was  unable  to  do  all  he  would 
otherwise  wish  to  do  in  inquiring  into  the  state  of  theii 
families,  &c.,  but  exhorted  them  to  attend  to  this  notice, 
and  that  he  was  ready  on  his  part  to  do  everything  to  help 
them  to  a  right  understanding  of  this  part  of  their  duty ; 
that  he  should  fix  a  time  when  he  knew  who  were  willing  to 
come — such  a  time  as  might  suit  not  his  convenience  but 
theirs,  to  whom  time  was  more  valuable ;  and  then  he 
brought  forward  every  objection  they  could  make  to  being 
confirmed,  and  asked  what  Christ  would  say  on  being  told 
it  was  too  much  trouble  ! 


268  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  Yesterday  I  had  my  mind  enlightened  upon  the  origin 
of  Augustus's  interest  in  and  fancy  for  military  tactics  and 
politics — of  all  the  youthful  dreams  he  had,  all  kept  to  him- 
self, and  nourished  up — the  long  vision  of  delivering  his 
country,  as  he  then  considered  Italy,  from  the  Austrian  yoke. 
His  account  of  his  early  habits  of  thought  quite  accounts  for 
any  originality  of  ideas — always  making  a  point  of  not  read- 
ing the  opinions  of  others,  finding  out  the/arts,  and  working 
them  out  in  his  own  mind. 

"  I  am  amused  to  think  how  little  most  women  would 
have  suited  him,  and  how  exactly  I  do.  His  love  for 
ruminating  by  himself,  to  anybody  without  resources  of  their 
own,  would  be  so  dull,  and  he  would  not  like  that  eternal 
interruption  which  many  wives  would  give ;  then  their  being 
fussy  about  trifles,  talking  about  their  neighbours'  concerns, 
vagueness,  and  the  very  least  regard  to  appearances  or 
show,  would  annoy  him  so  much  ;  and  yet,  without  liking  a 
wife  to  be  troublesome  in  fondness,  he  would  ill  have  borne 
with  the  slightest  coldness ;  so  that,  without  vanity,  I  cer- 
tainly am  more  adapted  to  his  wants  than  most  could 
have  been.  Perhaps  I  might  equally  say  of  myself 
that,  indulged  as  I  have  always  been,  I  should  have  borne 
ill  any  person  of  more  irritable  nature,  and  less  tender  and 
considerate.  Putting  aside  all  other  considerations,  I  never 
saw  anybody  so  easy  to  live  with,  by  whom  the  daily  petty 
things  of  life  were  passed  over  so  lightly ;  and  then  there  is 
a  charm  in  the  refinement  of  feeling,  which  is  not  to  be  told 
in  its  influence  upon  trifles. 

"July  27. — A  new  parcel  of  books  has  just  arrived,  and 
Augustus  having  seized  upon  one,  I  have  no  chance  of  a 
word  for  some  time,  and  so  you  shall  hear  all  what  you  are 
wishing  to  know  about  his  expedition.  At  Salisbury  he 
went  through  all  the  forms  of  institution  with  the  bishop. 
Saturday,  with  difficulty,  he  found  his  way  by  cross-roads  to 


WEST   WOODHAY.  269 

Alton-Barnes,  pi*.  ..is  hand  upon  the  church  key,  rang  the 
bell  three  times,  and  on  Sunday  went  through  the  morning 
service  with  all  the  Articles  and  other  necessary  declara- 
tions— the  evening  service,  prayers,  and  sermon ;  which 
latter,  not  being  prepared,  he  was  obliged  to  borrow  a  ser- 
mon, and  says  it  was  the  worst  he  ever  read.  This  all  done, 
he  was  duly  inducted  rector  of  Alton-Barnes.  And  now  for 
the  house.  It  has  steps  up  to  the  door,  a  wide  passage,  good 
staircase,  dining-room  on  one  side,  study  on  the  other ;  up- 
stairs drawing-room,  three  bedrooms  and  dressing-closet, 
five  good  attics,  fit  for  single  gentlemen.  The  rooms  low, 
small,  confined.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  to  cut  away  a 
clump  of  trees  just  before  the  windows,  excluding  all  air 
from  the  lower  rooms.  Church  a  couple  of  hundred  yards 
off;  and  a  second  church  close  by,  belonging  to  Alton- 
Priors,  a  parish  of  which  we  shall  have  the  principal  charge 
probably,  as*  the  clergyman  lives  four  miles  off,  and  there  is 
only  service  once  in  three  weeks.  Augustus  looks  for  com- 
fort to  the  high  downs  on  each  side  of  us.  I  think  my 
eagerness  to  get  to  our  own  house  and  the  readiness  to 
leave  Woodhay  has  much  abated  since  I  have  anticipated 
the  exchange  from  this  large  room,  large  windows  opening 
on  so  fine  a  lawn,  to  the  little  confined  limits  of  a  low  room, 
small  windows,  a  chalk  road,  and  a  barrier  of  trees,  and  I 
look  at  our  fine  expanse  here  with  infinitely  more  admiration 
in  thinking  how  short  will  be  our  enjoyment  of  such  luxury. 
Then  Woodhay  now,  with  the  return  of  fine  weather,  of 
Augustus,  &c.,  has  returned  to  its  first  charm,  and  we  shall 
have  a  second  honeymoon  in  comfort." 

"  August  2. — Augustus  is  so  shocked  at  the  ignorance  of 
the  people  here  who  have  come  to  him  about  confirmation, 
that  he  is  set  down  to  write  a  sermon  for  them  this  evening. 
I  therefore  will  sit  down  to  instruct  you,  not  about  confirm- 
ation, but  about  Alton-Barnes. 


270  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  To  be  sure,  Woodhay  does  seem  a  paradise  on  return- 
ing, and  the  fine  space  and  breathing-room  is  so  enjoyable  ! 
But  comparisons  are  odious,  and  we  will  forget  Woodhay, 
whilst  I  tell  you  of  our  home  that  is  to  be.  A  delightful 
day  we  had  on  Friday.  The  drive  through  Marlborough 
Chase — Lord  Ailesbury's — was  exquisite.  We  stopped  at 
Marlborough  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  looking  at 
household  furniture  to  be  sold,  and  we  found  little  enough 
to  wish  for.  About  two  o'clock,  after  a  beautiful  drive 
through  the  vale  of  Pewsey,  we  arrived  at  Alton.  Could  wo 
have  stopped  three  miles  on  this  side,  we  should  havt 
been  in  the  prettiest,  most  delightful  country  I  ever  saw ; 
but  we  are  just  a  little  too  far,  getting  too  much  upon  the 
barren  chalk  downs.  Alton  itself  is  quite  an  oasis  in  the 
desert — a  hamlet,  with  much  wood  and  green  meadows,  all 
shut  in  to  a  small  compass,  backed  on  every  side  by  the 
green  hills,  which  are  more  broken  and  better  formed  than 
those  here,  and  in  a  drawing  I  dare  say  would  give  the 
effect  of  being  in  a  fine  mountainous  country  !  It  was  much 
prettier  than  I  expected,  and  the  approach  to  the  Rectory 
agreeably  surprised  me.  It  is  red  brick,  it  is  true,  and  the 
door  is  in  the  middle,  with  little  windows  on  each  side,  but 
then  it  has  the  tint  of  old  age ;  the  front  is  nearly  covered 
with  clematis  and  jessamine,  and  the  little  green  sloping 
terrace  and  shrubs  and  trees  round  it,  though  rather  con- 
fined, give  a  look  of  quiet  and  retirement.  The  inside  was 
much  what  I  expected,  very  comfortable  as  to  the  number 
of  rooms,  but  the  size  being  fourteen  and  fifteen  feet  square, 
and  low,  seemed  very  confined  after  our  spacious  quarters 
here ;  and  then,  as  we  dined  eleven,  we  saw  them  to  the 
greatest  disadvantage.  The  study,  which  has  shelves  all 
round  and  cupboards  below,  looked  the  best;  the  others 
scantily  furnished  and  wretched ;  yet  I  could  not  help 
thinking  how  much  we  should  have  to  do  to  make  them 


WEST   WOODHAY.  271 


even  as  full  as  they  are  now Miss  Crowe  took  me  all 

over  the  house  and  offices.  She  was,  I  suppose,  a  little 
shy,  and  I  felt  exceedingly  the  awkwardness  of  the  situation, 
coming  to  turn  out  these  people  who  had  lived  there 
eighteen  years,  and  were  much  attached  to  the  place ;  so 
that,  further  than  seeing  went,  I  made  little  progress,  and  I 
felt  quite  in  despair  how  to  set  about  anything  further. 
After  dinner  we  went  out  to  the  church,  which  is  the 
smallest  place  you  ever  saw,  with  about  half  a  dozen  pews. 
A  farmhouse  close  to  it,  with  the  prettiest  possible  flower- 
garden,  excited  my  envy.  I  was  introduced  to  the  lady  of 
it  and  her  daughters,  who  are  of  quite  a  higher  order  than 
our  farmers  in  the  north.  Alton-Priors  is  quite  close,  and 
the  church,  which  I  wish  was  ours,  has  a  fine  old  tower  and 
magnificent  yew-tree.  I  settled  my  first  sketch  at  once. 
Altogether  it  is  certainly  very  pretty.  The  worst  part  is  the 
roads,  being  chalky,  and  in  winter  they  say  it  is  like  walk- 
ing through  so  much  mortar,  no  stirring  without  pattens — old 
Stoke  lanes  must  have  been  excellent  in  comparison.  Next 
morning  we  got  on  much  better.  Miss  Crowe  began  to 
find  out  my  ignorance,  and  to  offer  her  advice ;  and  with 
much  kindness  set  to  work  helping  me  to  take  dimensions 
for  curtains,  carpets,  &c.  She  was,  I  am  sure,  much 
amused  by  my  ignorance,  and  Augustus's  perfect  helpless- 
ness, and  I  believe  she  pitied  me  greatly  in  having  no  assist- 
ance from  him,  but  '  settle  it  just  as  you  please.' 

"  I  feel  no  doubt  we  shall  get  very  fond  of  the  place,  and 
that  Augustus  will  be  heartily  sorry  to  exchange  it  for 
Hurstmonceaux.  The  barrenness  of  the  downs  gives  our 
little  hamlet  quite  the  appearance  of  an  oasis  in  a  desert,  and 
there  is  something  especially  appropriate  to  the  character  of 
a  pastor  and  his  flock  in  the  having  them  all  so  immediately 
under  his  own  eye.  I  am  very  happy  in  seeing,  by  the  ex- 
perience here,  how  much  Augustus  makes  himself  beloved 


272  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

by  the  poor  people,  and  how  much  they  like  his  plain  and 
homely  style  of  teaching  them. 

"  August  6. — Augustus  says,  '  Now  you  will  write  to 
K.,'  all  the  people  being  gone,  and  as  it  is  a  pity  not 
to  fulfil  his  expectation,  I  will  so  enjoy  myself.  Of  course 
Mrs.  Hare-Naylor's  dreaded  visit  has  not  been  so 
alarming  as  my  expectation.  She  came  just  before  dinner 
on  Monday,  with  our  two  half-brothers,  Gustavus  and 

Reginald,  and  our  half-sister  Georgiana. David 

could  not  have  waited  upon  us  all,  so  Mary  came  in  to 
assist  him,  which  she  did  with  the  same  good  sense  and 
good  humour  with  which  she  does  everything.  Everything 
seemed  to  go  on  with  so  little  trouble,  I  wondered  how 
people  with  tolerable  servants  can  contrive  so  much  fuss. 
One  day,  to  be  sure,  Augustus  said  there  was  not  dinner 
enough,  and  another  day  too  much ;  but  I  told  Mrs.  H.  N. 
she  must  in  her  mind  unite  the  whole,  and  it  would  amount 
to  a  right  proportion  of  feeding  during  the  three  days ;  and 
she  laughed  heartily,  and  I  dare  say  forgave  the  inequality. 

"  Did  I  tell  you  of  the  good  sermon  Augustus  got  up  to 
preach  on  Sunday  evening,  written  in  three  hours.  In  such 
sort  of  talking  sermons  he  will  never  have  any  difficulty. 
He  had  a  hard  day's  work — the  men  and  women  in  the 
morning  to  be  questioned,  and  in  the  evening,  after  dinner, 
the  farmers'  sons.  One  man  of  fifty  wished  to  be  confirmed. 
'Do  you  know  who  Jesus  Christ  is?'  'Why,  please  your 
Honour,  I  canna'  rightly  say.'  But  of  the  seventy  people 
in  the  parish,  twenty-seven  are  to  be  confirmed.  Yesterday 
was  a  charming  day.  Uncle  Hugh  Leycester  came  just  as 
we  were  going  to  breakfast.  He  was  very  much  affected  on 
seeing  me,  and  some  time  before  he  could  recover  himself, 
and  I  thought  he  looked  ill.  He  was  much  interested  in 
seeing  the  place,  and  he  looked  so  pleased  to  see  me 
so  happy,  and  cried  &  good  deal  when  he  went  away. 


WEST   WOOD  HAY.  273 


"  As  Mr.  Sloper's  hay  was  spoiling  for  want  of  hands, 
Augustus  set  us  all  to  work  yesterday  to  turn  it,  setting  the 
example  himself. 

"August  26. — Having  shut  out  these  stormy  winds,  beat- 
ing with,  the  fury  of  December  against  the  windows,  made 
up  my  fire,  and  got  candles,  I  will  employ  my  solitary  even- 
ing in  writing  to  you.     Augustus  is  gone  with  Mr.  Sloper  to 
dine  at  Lord  Carnarvon's  at  Highclere  ;  for  yesterday,  as 
Augustus  and  I  had  been  riding  in  the  park  there,  just  as 
we  were  going  out   of  it,  we  met  Lord  Porchester,  who 
expressed  much  surprise  at  seeing  him,  and  much  regret  at 
not  having  known  before  of  his  being  in  the  neighbourhood, 
as  well  as  of  his  being  about  to  leave  Highclere  himself. 
So  this  morning  there  came  a  servant  over  with  a  note, 
begging  Augustus  would  excuse  the  short  notice  and  dine 
there  to-day.    As  nothing  was  said  about  me,  I  did  not  sup- 
pose myself  invited,  but  advised  him  to  accept  so  kind  an 
invitation.    Highclere  is  a  most  beautiful  place.   The  woods 
there,  though  on  a  larger  scale  and  wilder,  reminded  me  of 
the  Alderley  beech-wood,  and  were  not  less  admired  on  that 
account.     The   day  before  we  rode   to    Lord    Craven's, 
Hampstead,  which  is  on  a  smaller  scale,  but  extremely  wild 
and  pretty.     You  may  think  how  I  enjoy  these  rides,  and 
seeing  something  of  this  country.     My  steed  is  the  pleasant- 
est  I  ever  mounted,  having  all  the  free-going  and  spirit  of  a 
hunter,  and  the  steadiness  which  gives  perfect  confidence 
As  for  Augustus,  he  trots  along  upon  Molly,  and  keeps  me 
in  a  fright,  when  she  is  in  one  of  her  fidgets,  with  the  addi- 
tional anxiety,  that  when  he  gets  annoyed  with  her,  he  does 
not  choose  to  be  conquered,  and  so  sets  off,  leaving  me  to 
my  fate,  while  he  finishes  the  battle  in  a  ploughed  field.     I 
think  at  our  neighbour  Mr.  Butler's  they  must  be  much 
amused  by  him — finding  a  volume  of  Clarendon  or  of  Par- 
liamentary Statutes  the  minute  he  gets  into  the  room,  and 
VOL.  i.  'i 


274  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

without  another  word  sitting  down  in  a  corner,  and  not 
speaking  till  dinner.  I  am  sure  I  am  invaluable  to  him  in 
saying  all  the  proper  things  and  laughing  at  his  ways.  We 
dined  there  on  Saturday,  and  he  got  up  at  five  on  Sunday 
to  write  his  sermon.  He  has  now  got  through  four  of  the 
confirmation  series,  and  will  end  next  Sunday.  The  last 
was  on  the  Atonement,  and  taken  partly  from  Erskine's 
Internal  Evidences.  He  talks  to  the  people  about  the  star 
that  shines  so  brightly  over  Woodhay  Hill,  about  what  the 
house  at  Highclere  is  built  of,  about  the  crown  in  the 
Tower  of  London,  with  various  other  illustrations,  amusing 
enough  I  dare  say  to  them.  He  finds  greater  facility  both 
in  writing  his  sermons  and  in  catechising  than  at  first,  and 
will  certainly  take  a  great  interest  in  it. 

"  The  Cedars,  East  Sheen,  September  2. — Here  I  am  once 
again,  and  very  strange  and  odd  I  feel  being  here  in  a  new 
capacity.  We  arrived  yesterday  about  four  P.M.,  and  found 
them  all  standing  at  the  door  to  receive  us.  We  have 
parted  from  West  Woodhay  quite  as  our  home,  and  have 
now  done  with  it  as  our  house,  and  shall  never  be  there 
again  in  the  same  way.  It  is  the  close,  too,  of  a  happy  era 
— the  first  three  months — which  we  both  regret ;  and,  com- 
ing away  to  other  people,  it  seems  becoming  like  them,  and 
getting  accustomed  to  separation. 

"September  12. — We  have  been  several  days  in  New 
Street  for  our  shopping,  and  I  certainly  did  feel  in  its  full 
extent  the  comfort  of  such  an  associate  as  Augustus  in  such 
a.  business — the  perfect  temper,  readiness  to  assist,  and  the 
perfect  liberty  which  it  gave  one.  I  believe  we  were  far 
more  independent  having  no  horses  to  consider,  walking 
where  we  pleased,  and  then  stepping  into  a  cab  or  chaise ; 
and  so  we  set  out  about  ten,  and  never  returned  to  New 
Street  till  five  or  six,  stopping  to  eat  when  we  felt  disposed. 
In  a  shoo  in  Wardour  Street  Augustus  bought  a  study 


WEST   WOODHAY.  275 


chair,  of  old  carved  oak,  with  a  crimson  cushion,  and  he 
flatters  himself  that  his  reverence  seated  in  that  will  be 
much  respected  ;  and  I  ordered  a  book  table  according  to 
my  own  fancy,  having  two  shelves  above,  a  bureau  part,  and 
shelves  below,  with  a  cupboard  at  each  end.  These  have 
been  our  only  extravagances. 

"  West  Woodhay,  September  21. — We  took  Worting  on 
our  way  back  here,  getting  there  by  two  o'clock.  It  is  an 
ugly  country  of  enclosed  downs,  but  of  course  was  full  of 
interest.  We  stopped  at  the  inn  at  Worting  to  order  some 
dinner,  drove  up  to  the  house,  about  two  hundred  yards  up 
a  lane — a  pretty  wooded  village,  with  three  or  four  good 
houses  in  it.  It  was  a  less  formal  and  much  prettier  place 
than  I  expected,  even  as  it  looked  on  such  a  wet  day. 
Mrs.  Butcher,  Lady  Jones's  faithful  maid,  was  there  to 
receive  us,  having  been  ordered  there  to  attend  to  the  valu- 
ation of  everything,  and  very  sad  she  looked.  Augustus 
took  me  all  over  the  old  places,  and — '  Here  she  used  to  sit 
— this  was  her  arm-chair — this  her  sofa — and  so  I  used  to 
move  it  for  her,"  &c. — with  many  little  details.  Down-stairs 
is  a  dining-room,  little  study,  and  breakfast-room ;  up-stairs 
a  drawing-room,  with  three  windows  and  books  all  round, 
very  like  the  room  at  Penrhos,  and  just  fitted  up  in  that 
sort  of  style,  very  comfortable  without  being  fine.  A  fine 
gleam  came  luckily  to  enable  us  to  go  out,  and  I  went  all 
over  the  gravel  walks  with  Augustus,  and  very  pretty  they 
are — nice  beech  avenues  making  a  round  of  about  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile.  We  saw  old  Lewis  the  bailiff,  and  Susan 
our  future  dairy-maid.  Augustus  picked  out  all  books  be- 
longing to  himself,  a  few  pamphlets  out  of  one  drawer  and 
a  few  out  of  another,  put  aside  out  of  the  china  what 
belonged  to  them  as  children,  &c.,  for  Mrs.  Butcher  to  keep 
apart.  She,  poor  thing,  seemed  sadly  distressed  at  what  to 
do,  nobody  to  say  what  should  be  done  or  not — so  troubled 


276  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

that  Augustus  would  not  dine  there.  There  was  the  sketch 
hung  up  of  Augustus  and  his  wet-nurse.  I  should  like  to 
have  that.  I  longed  to  have  stayed  longer  looking  over  all 
the  old  places.  It  looked  as  if  Lady  Jones  had  just  left  it,  and  I 
am  very  glad  to  have  seen  it  in  the  old  original  state.  The 
books  would  make  a  very  nice  addition  to  our  library,  a 
great  many  modern  and  some  good  standard  books.  After 
dining  at  the  inn,  we  set  out  in  pouring  rain,  going  three 
miles  out  of  our  way  to  Overton  to  see  old  Sally  Penton. 
The  poor  old  woman  wept  bitterly  on  seeing  us ;  said  she 
could  not  get  over  her  loss  as  she  ought ;  so  delighted  to 
see  me  ;  and  sate  all  the  time  with  both  my  hands  in  hers, 
kissing  me,  and  saying,  whenever  Augustus  went  to  talk  to 
the  granddaughter,  what  a  dear  good  man  Augustus  was, 
and  how  everybody  loved  him,  and  wished  he  could  have 
had  Worting,  and  of  all  he  used  to  say  and  do,  and  talked 
about  how  lucky  we  were  married  first,  just  as  you  would  do. 
She  is  just  such  a  little  withered  acute  old  woman  as  Lady 
Jones  was  herself,  eighty-four,  but  would  hobble  down  to 
the  door  to  see  us  go  away,  and  never  did  visit  I  believe 
give  more  pleasure.  We  took  her  two  bottles  of  wine  and 
a  chicken,  and  Augustus  gave  the  granddaughter  ;£io 
towards  the  payment  of  the  pension,  which  unluckily  Lady 
Jones  had  forgotten  to  pay  before  leaving  Worting.  All 
this  was  delightful.  We  had  then  about  eighteen  miles 
on  here.  Before  we  reached  Highclere,  the  daylight  was 
gone  ;  one  of  our  lamps  was  broken,  so  we  could  only  light 
%  one.  The  post-boy  could  not  find  his  way  in  these  most 
intricate  cross-roads ;  and,  after  driving  into  a  farmyard  or 
two,  having  to  ask  our  way,  &c.,  we  at  last  took  a  guide, 
who,  perched  on  the  boot,  directed  the  turns,  and  some- 
times helped  to  turn  the  wheels  when  the  horses  refused  to 
draw  up  some  of  the  steep  hills,  as  they  did  two  or  three 
times,  being  completely  knocked  up.  Anything  so  bad  or  so 


WEST   WOODHAY.  277 


dark,  or  so  doubtful  if  we  should  ever  get  home,  I  never 
felt.  We  began  to  debate  about  sending  for  Mr.  Sloper's 
cart-horses  to  drag  us  on.  However,  at  last,  by  stopping 
every  hundred  yards  to  rest,  we  got  here  at  ten  o'clock, 
having  been  five  hours  coming  from  Worting. 

"  Woodhay  looked  its  old  self  in  yesterday's  sunshine,  and 
I  enjoyed  it  exceedingly,  and  love  it  so  for  our  first  days  of 
happiness.  It  seems  strange  not  being  master  and  mistress, 
and  we  think  it  was  regulated  better  in  our  reign.  To- 
•norrow  forty  people  or  more  come  to  a  bow-meeting,  and 
Mr.  Sloper  having  given  no  positive  orders  about  the 
dinner  or  anything,  makes  a  confusion  which  nothing  but 
good  temper  can  regulate.  Of  these  forty  I  know  two,  and 
shall  have  to  do  the  honours  to  all !  " 

"Sept.  1 6. — Mr.  Sloper  went  out  hunting  on  Monday, 
and  gave  no  definite  orders  to  the  last.  Augustus  and 
I  laid  our  heads  together  to  arrange  the  dinner,  measure 
the  table,  and  set  in  some  sort  of  order  the  profusion  of 
game  which  filled  the  larder,  and  some  of  the  party  actually 
arrived  on  Tuesday  whilst  I  was  writing  out  the  bill  of  fare. 
It  was  awkward  enough  for  me,  having  to  receive  people  I 
never  saw  in  my  life ;  however,  Mr.  Sloper  returned,  and  about 
one  o'clock  thirty-six  people  were  assembled.  The  day  was 
fair  and  fine.  The  lawn,  mown  as  smooth  as  that  at  Sheen, 
with  the  meadows  and  hill  beyond,  was  just  made  for  such  a 
purpose,  and  certainly  wanted  nothing  but  a  little  sunshine 
to  make  it  a  beautiful  scene.  Luncheon  was  laid  at  two 
o'clock,  and  the  shooters  came  in  by  turns.  Six  ladies  and 
about  fourteen  gentlemen  shot.  Of  the  former,  a  sulky- 
looking  girl,  who  had  the  good  wishes  of  none  of  the  party, 
carried  everything  before  her,  and  succeeded  in  winning 
the  prize,  a  very  pretty  butterfly  brooch.  I  had  little  to  do 
but  look  on,  and  every  now  and  then  Augustus  and  I 
escaped  to  rest  ourselves  and  moralise  on  the  wearisomeness 


278  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

of  pleasure.  I  got  dressed  early,  and  then,  by  showing  the 
people  to  their  different  rooms,  getting  their  respective 
things  carried  up,  and  assisting  at  the  toilettes  of  two  or 
three,  made  amends  for  any  inattention  in  the  morning,  for 
my  conscience  rather  reproached  me  for  skulking  away.  It 
was  half-past  seven  before  we  got  to  dinner  in  the  hall ; 
really,  considering  all  things,  it  was  wonderfully  well 
arranged,  and  very  little  confusion.  I  begged  off  sitting  at 
the  top  of  the  table,  and  sat  by  Mr.  Sloper.  After  dinner 
were  speeches  and  toasts  and  the  presenting  of  the  prize ; 
then  I  bowed  to  the  lady  nearest  me  and  we  came  out. 
Whilst  they  had  their  tea  and  coffee  I  stole  out  to  super- 
intend the  lighting  of  the  ball-room.  The  saloon  up-stairs 
was  capital  for  this  purpose,  and  altogether  the  number  and 
size  of  the  rooms  just  suited  such  a  party.  About  ten  we 
began  dancing,  and  I  really  found  myself  dancing  away  with 
all  the  gaiety,  I  was  going  to  say,  of  fifteen ;  but  no — at 
fifteen  I  never  danced  with  half  the  spirit.  You  cannot 
think  what  request  I  was  in  as  a  partner.  Mr.  Tom  Smith, 
the  keeper  of  the  foxhounds  in  this  county,  begged  Augustus 
would  present  him  to  me,  it  must  be  such  a  treat  to  dance 
with  anybody  who  enjoyed  it  so  much.  Accordingly,  I 
found  him  as  much  up  to  it,  and  we  flourished  away  just  as 
you  and  R.  L.  used  to  do.  He  was  quite  a  better  sort  of 
foxhuntef,  said  he  liked  everything  he  did  only  too  well, 
and  evidently  could  find  resource  in  everything  he  under- 
takes. You  may  guess  how  thoroughly  Augustus  was 
bored.  If  was  nearly  three  o'clock  before  we  went  to 
supper,  and  four  before  the  house  was  cleared  and  we  went 
to  bed.  and  I  never  was  more  dead  tired.  However,  every- 
body seemed  pleased.  The  supper  was  very  pretty,  and 
there  was  much  marvel  how  Mr.  Sloper  could  have  managed 
it  so  well.  I  have  no  doubt  I  got  infinitely  more  credit 
than  I  had  any  right  to,  for  I  really  don't  know  how  it  was 


WEST   WOODHAY.  279 


all  done.  It  was  rather  amusing  likening  the  different 
people  to  those  one  knows ;  they  are  exactly  the  sort  of  class 
described  in  '  Emma.' 

"  Francis  Hare  is  just  arrived.  What  an  odd  man  he  is. 
He  walked  in  just  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  house  two 
months,  talked  in  the  same  tone,  and  has  a  sort  of  non- 
chalance which  is  very  curious.  Yet  when  he  rouses 
himself  up,  he  comes  out  with  something  odd  and  humor- 
ous, and  has  sense  enough  about  common  things. 

"  Sept.  30. — Yesterday  Augustus  had  a  cold,  and,  besides, 
thought  that  a  thirty-mile  ride  would  be  further  than  either 
he  or  his  pony  would  approve  of,  so  Mr.  Sloper  drove  me  to 
Alton  in  his  gig,  and  I  was  charged  with  full  powers  of 
decision  about  everything  to  be  settled.  We  set  off  about 
eight,  taking  David  on  the  pony  as  our  pioneer  through 
the  bad  roads.  It  was  a  lovely  day,  and  I  certainly  seemed 
doomed  to  see  the  most  favourable  side  of  Alton.  We  got 
there  soon  after  eleven,  and  found  a  pretty  state  of  con- 
fusion— a  waggon  at  the  door  carrying  off  chairs  and  tables, 
and  the  entrance  blocked  up  by  our  goods  coming  in. 
There,  at  the  door,  lay  the  great  case  from  Clementi,  the 
least  necessary  part  of  the  furniture  being  the  first  to  arrive. 
Mr.  and  Miss  Crowe  soon  made  their  appearance  from  their 
packing  operations,  and  certainly  dressed  to  suit  their  work. 
I  was  amused  by  Miss  C.  instantly  setting  to  business, 
and  with  scarcely  the  preamble  of  '  How  do  you  do '  show- 
ing me  the  various  tin-pans,  &c.,  she  had  bought.  The 
house  was  entirely  cleared  of  furniture,  men  were  white- 
washing, and  women  scouring,  so  that  you  may  fancy  the 
state  it  was  in,  showing  off  all  deficiencies  in  the  walls  and 
papers  to  the  utmost.  The  rooms  looked  of  course  larger, 
and  they  were  beautifully  clean.  The  red  American  creeper 
and  clematis  covering  the  front  of  the  house,  and  the  old 
stone  over  the  doorway  and  windows,  made  it  look  suffi- 


280  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

ciently  picturesque,  and  anything  of  hills  for  the  varieties  of 
light  to  fall  upon  is  always  an  advantage  to  a  place.  I 
engaged  a  man  to  work  in  the  garden  for  eight  shillings 
a-week,  milk  our  cows,  clean  the  pony,  and  feed  the  pigs ! 
Mr.  Sloper  sends  his  waggon  with  our  goods  the  end  of 
next  week,  with  cow  and  pig,  and  on  Tuesday  the  i3th  I 
suppose  we  shall  transport  ourselves  and  our  household. 
All  the  new  things  looked  nice,  and  there  certainly  is  a 
pleasure  in  beginning  from  the  very  beginning,  knowing 
exactly  every  individual  thing  in  the  house. 

"  Francis  was  in  better  spirits  on  Sunday.  He  went  off 
upon  statues,  and  antiquities,  and  Italian  traditions,  and 
was  very  entertaining  all  the  evening,  and  had  some  good 
stories  about  the  Speaker  and  the  etiquettes  of  Parliament, 
&c.  He  met  Sydney  Smith  in  the  coach,  who  said  if  he 
was  to  appoint  he  would  make  Augustus  warden  of  Win- 
chester. I  am  glad  he  has  not  the  power." 

C.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"Dec.  19. — Certainly  your  present  condition  is  full  of 
wholesome  interest  and  occupation,  and,  except  loving 
Augustus  too  much,  I  don't  see  any  wrong  paths  before 
you,  and  I  cannot  but  admire  how  entirely  you  have  laid 
aside  all  thought  and  trouble  about  the  will  and  its  decision. 

"  Nothing  can  be  more  wholesome,  more  comfortable, 
more  satisfying,  than  the  account  you  give  of  your  studies 
and  life.  I  perfectly  agree  with  you  in  wishing  to  have  no 
interruption  from  the  trash  of  book-clubs.  It  would  be 
well  if  we  had  all  of  us  a  literary  Jephson  to  put  us 
on  a  restricted  diet  of  solid  food.  How  I  should  like 
to  assist — no,  not  assist,  but  listen  invisible  to  your 
colloquies;  but  I  expect,  by  the  time  we  meet  again, 
you  will  be  so  drawn  out,  that  I  shall  be  the  comparatively 
silent  one. 


WEST   WOODHAY.  281 


"  On  Wednesday,  when  we  were  at  Lathom,  came  an 
express  from  Knowsley,  saying  there  was  to  be  a  railroad 
exhibition  that  day  near  Prescot,  and  the  Liverpool  tunnel 
lighted  up  for  Lords  Harrowby  and  Sandon  next  day.  So 
we  got  off  as  soon  as  we  could,  and  drove  straight  to  the 
railroad  at  Prescot,  and  there  found  Charlotte  and  Penrhyn, 
and  the  wonderful  locomotive  engine  flying  past.  To  us, 
who  have  no  turn  for  these  things,  and  therefore  cannot  or 
do  not  realise  any  description,  the  seeing  them  comes  with 
such  novelty  and  force,  and  brings  such  a  train  of  new 
thoughts — this  thing,  which  is  to  convey  carriages,  people, 
goods,  everything,  from  Liverpool  to  Manchester,  thirty 
miles  in  an  hour,  ruining  half  the  warehouses  at  Liverpool 
by  making  Manchester  into  a  seaport  town,  the  goods  landed 
at  the  docks  at  Liverpool  being  henceforth  transported  at 
once  into  the  warehouses  at  Manchester  in  as  short  a  time 
as  they  now  take  in  being  carried  from  the  lower  to  the 
upper  part  of  the  town.  The  effect  of  the  velocity  is  that 
when  you  stand  on  the  railroad  and  watch  the  machine 
coming,  it  seems  not  to  approach,  but  to  expand  into  size 
and  distinctness  like  the  image  in  a  phantasmagoria.  They 
would  not  take  any  car  for  passengers  that  day  as  it  was  a 
newly  constructed  engine,  and  they  were  only  trying ;  but 
it  gave  one  a  sensation  seeing  it  whiz  past.  The  next  day, 
at  ten  o'clock,  Penrhyn,  Edward,  Mr.  Stanley,  and  I,  set  off 
in  the  Derby  coach  and  four  for  the  tunnel,  which  is  at  the 
end  of  the  aforesaid  railroad — an  excavated  vault  of  a  mile 
and  a  quarter  under  the  town  of  Liverpool,  coming  out  at 
the  docks.  Lord  Harrowby  and  Lord  Sandon  were  just 
arrived,  with  Adam  Hodgson,  one  of  the  directors  of 
the  said  tunnel,  Scoresby  of  the  Arctic  Regions,  James 
Hornby — altogether  about  twenty  of  us.  We  went  first 
to  see  the  carriages  in  preparation  for  the  railroad.  I  had 
no  idea  it  was  all  in  such  a  state  of  forwardness.  They 


282  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

are  like  the  omnibus,  a  coach  with  a  chariot  at  each  end, 
some  fit  for  twenty,  some  for  thirty  passengers ;  also  cradles 
for  pigs,  cattle,  and  goods;  and  platforms  with  railroad 
wheels,  upon  which  you  may  drive  your  carriage  and  horses 
as  into  a  steamboat,  stand  still,  and  be  transplanted  as  upon 
the  fairy  carpel  for  thirty  miles  while  your  horses  are 
baiting,  ready  to  drive  off  and  take  you  on,  and  making  a 
ferry  of  it !  They  are  now  thinking  of  continuing  the 
tunnel  under  the  Mersey,  so  as  to  supersede  the  real  ferry 
altogether  to  Seacumbe.  This  seen,  we  got  into  a  kind  of 
German  post-waggon — all  twenty — a  horse  cantered  with  us 
up  the  little  tunnel  as  they  call  it,  and  then  was  taken  off, 
and  we  were  launched  into  the  great  tunnel,  a  vaulted 
passage  lighted  with  lamps  suspended  from  the  centre ;  a 
slight  push  sent  us  off,  and  away  we  started  at  the  rate  of 
thirty  miles  an  hour,  our  speed  increasing  as  we  went  on, 
perceptible  only  from  the  strong  current  of  air,  and  the 
passing  the  lamps  so  rapidly.  I  never  felt  so  strange,  so 
much  in  a  state  of  magic,  of  enchantment,  as  if  surrounded 
by  new  powers  and  capabilities.  In  less  than  three  minutes 
from  having  entered  the  tunnel  in  the  country,  we  came  out 
on  the  other  side  of  Liverpool  at  the  docks.  The  first 
effect  of  daylight  was  beautiful,  and  of  finding  ourselves  we 
did  not  know  where,  after  the  rapid  motion,  bewildering. 
We  got  into  our  coach  again  grumbling  at  Macadam  roads, 
and  the  Derby  pace  of  ten  miles  an  hour — Edward  lament- 
ing his  hard  fate  at  being  fifty  years  old  at  the  beginning  of 
such  things,  Mr.  Stanley  amusing  in  his  speculations  as  to 
the  effect  of  these  things  in  various  directions.  I  tell  you 
all  this  because  you  in  the  South  must  be  in  a  state  of  com- 
parative behindness  and  darkness,  and  you  will  hardly 
believe,  as  I  did  not,  what  is  doing  till  I  had  seen  it.  I 
dare  say  Augustus  will  like  to  know  it  all.  Alas  !  at  this 
moment  you  have  not  him  to  turn  to — not  that  I  pity 


WEST   WOODHAY.  283 


you  one  bit.  I  do  enjoy  complete  solitude  and  freedom 
so  much  myself,  that,  though  you  have  a  great  privation 
to  set  against  it,  I  am  sure  you  have  a  sister  feeling 
about  it." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Oct.  1829. — You  must  have  one  more  letter  from  Wood- 
hay.  At  this  moment  the  waggon  is  loaded  with  our  twenty- 
seven  boxes,  and  is  to  start  early  to-morrow,  and  Mary  goes 
off  by  coach  to  get  to  Alton  a  day  before  us.  She  has 
taken  all  the  trouble,  thought  of  everything,  and  is  quite 
what  E.  S.  would  call  a  brave  femme — her  spirits  rise  with 
the  occasion. 

"  I  shall  feel  as  if  we  were  married  again,  or  rather  that 
we  really  belong  to  each  other,  when  we  are  in  our  own 
house.  Good-bye,  dearest  K.,  I  wish  you  could  see  how 
very  happy  I  am.  That  2nd  of  June  was  a  blessed  day !" 


VII. 

HOME  PORTRAITURE. 

"  Nature  has  perfections,  in  order  to  show  that  she  is  the 
image  of  God ;  and  defects,  in  order  to  show  that  she  is  only 
His  image." — PASCAL. 

HPHE  New  College  living  of  Alton -Barnes  which 
Augustus  Hare  had  accepted  was  perhaps  the  most 
primitive  village  in  Wiltshire.  Completely  isolated  in  the 
great  treeless  plain  of  corn  which  occupies  the  Vale  of 
Pewsey,  its  few  whitewashed  mud  cottages,  their  roofs 
thatched  with  straw  and  sheltered  by  large  elm-trees,  are 
grouped  around  an  oasis  of  two  or  three  green  meadows,  in 
one  of  which  stands  the  tiny  towerless  church  of  Alton- 
Barnes,  or  more  properly  Alton-Berners,  from  St.  Bernard ; 
and  in  the  field  adjoining  the  more  imposing  but  still  very 
small  church  of  Alton-Priors,  which  derives  its  name  from  a 
small  monastic  institution,  of  which  no  relics  exist,  except 
the  brass  of  a  nun  in  its  pavement,  and  the  name  of  "  The 
Priory  "  by  which  a  rather  better  class  of  cottage  close  by  is 
dignified. 

An  antiquarian  might  find  much  to  interest  him  in  the 
peculiarities  of  the  surrounding  country.  The  extreme 
openness  of  the  Wiltshire  down  district  causes  the  ancient 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  285 

Saxon  landmarks  to  be  more  visible  than  in  any  other 
county  in  England.  For  instance,  in  the  parish  of  Stanton, 
which  adjoins  Alton,  all  the  boundaries  mentioned  in 
Domesday  Book  are  still  visible ;  such  as,  an  immense 
thorn-tree  of  absolutely  immemorial  age,  on  the  exact  spot 
where  "  Anna's  Thorn  "  is  mentioned ;  Anna's  Crumble,  a 
crumble  being  a  small  round  pool  for  beasts  to  drink 
out  of;  and  Anna's  Well  —  all  these  names  referring 
to  the  saint  under  whose  protection  the  village  was  placed. 
It  is  interesting,  in  reference  to  these  ancient  boundaries, 
to  read  the  charter  which  mentions  them  to  any  old  shep- 
herd, and  tell  him  to  stop  you  if  he  hears  any  name  he 
knows  ;  and  this  is  the  best  means  of  verifying  them. 

The  name  Alton  is  Saxon — Ea-wal-ton,  "  the  place  of 
beautiful  springs,"  corrupted  to  Awltoun,  hence  to  Alton. 
The  place  is  spelt  Awltoun  in  Domesday  Book.  There  are 
still  five  springs  in  Alton-Priors ;  one  of  them  is  still  called 
Bradwell,  by  which  name  it  is  mentioned  in  Domesday 
Book.  The  exceeding  antiquity  of  the  little  church  of  Alton- 
Barnes  is  attested  by  its  flat  buttresses,  refuting  the  village 
tradition  that  the  church  was  removed  to  its  present  site 
from  Shaw,  a  farm  high  up  on  the  side  of  the  downs.  That 
which  was  removed  from  Shaw,  where  a  chapel  certainly 
existed,  was  probably  the  windows  of  the  church,  which  are 
of  much  later  date  than  the  rest  of  the  building. 

The  absolute  isolation  of  the  place,  without  any  gentle- 
man's house  except  the  rectory,  without  any  public-house, 
with  scarcely  even  anything  which  can  be  dignified  by  the 
name  of  a  village-shop,  has  preserved  in  the  character  of  the 
villagers  a  simplicity  which  is  most  unusual ;  and  though 


286  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

rough  and  very  ignorant,  their  straightforward,  free-spoken, 
grateful  dispositions  made  them  peculiarly  susceptible  to  the 
kindness  they  received  from  their  new  rector  and  his  wife, 
and  to  the  interest  which  they  knew  that  he  felt  in  them. 

My  dear  mother  has  herself  left  notes  referring  to  her 
husband's  ministerial  life,  which  I  will  now  give  in  her  own 
words. 

"  An  artist  in  painting  a  portrait  finds  he  has  done  little 
towards  effecting  his  purpose  when  the  features  are  drawn, 
and  the  outline  completed.  These  may  be  true  to  the  life, 
and  yet  the  whole  character  of  the  face — the  man  himself 
— may  be  wanting.  It  is  a  rare  thing  for  a  painter  to  give 
a  likeness  that  is  satisfying  to  those  who  have  long  been 
familiar  with  a  face,  and  have  been  accustomed  to  see  the 
changes  and  variations  that  pass  over  it  as  circumstances 
draw  out  the  inward  feeling,  to  those  who  have  almost  lost 
sight  of  the  outward  form  in  the  light  that  shines  forth 
through  it.  Now  is  it  less  difficult  to  portray  in  words  the 
peculiarities  and  beauties  of  a  living  character  ?  Here  and 
there  may  be  a  line  of  resemblance,  here  and  there  a  trait 
recalling  him  who  is  departed ;  but  the  whole,  the  living 
whole,  the  source  and  spring  of  all  the  separate  acts  and 
words,  how  can  this  be  manifested  ?  How  can  those  who 
knew  the  original  furnish  those  who  did  not  know  him 
with  anything  like  an  adequate  conception,  or  meet  the 
wishes  and  feelings  of  those  who  having  known,  and  loved, 
and  valued  the  living,  desire  to  have  the  never-fading 
recollection  in  their  own  minds  conveyed  to  others  ? 

"  The  beginning  of  Augustus's  ministerial  services  was  at 
West  Woodhay.  The  three  months  subsequent  to  his  mar- 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  287 

riage  were  spent  there,  and,  in  the  absence  of  its  usual 
minister,  he  performed  the  service  of  the  church.  Hitherto 
an  occasional  sermon  in  a  friend's  church  had  been  the 
extent  of  his  experience  in  preaching,  and  of  the  people  he 
addressed  he  had  been  wholly  ignorant.  But  while  at 
Woodhay,  the  examination  of  some  candidates  for  confirma- 
tion brought  to  his  knowledge  a  degree  of  ignorance  on  the 
part  both  of  young  and  old  that  both  astonished  and 
shocked  him.  It  was  clear  that,  when  the  ground  was  so 
little  prepared,  the  seed  of  the  Word  read  and  preached  in 
church,  and  the  services  of  the  Liturgy,  could  profit  little.  He 
threw  aside  at  once  the  more  regular  form  of  sermon  to 
which  he  had  been  accustomed,  and  wrote  down  as  if  he 
had  been  speaking,  and  in  the  plainest  words,  such  simple 
instruction  as  seemed  adapted  to  the  wants  of  people  un- 
taught in  the  first  rudiments  of  Christian  faith.  This  is 
mentioned  here  because  it  was  the  beginning  of  that 
attempt  to  teach  the  poor  in  a  way  they  could  understand 
which  he  had  so  earnestly  at  heart  during  his  stay  at 
Alton,  and  which,  both  in  his  intercourse  with  his  clerical 
brethren  and  in  his  own  family,  he  often  loved  to  dwell 
upon,  ever  noting  down  from  the  experience  of  others  what- 
ever seemed  likely  to  effect  this  great  object.  Having  lived 
but  little  in  the  country,  and  his  attention  having  been  en- 
grossed by  other  subjects,  he  was,  from  education  and  habits 
of  life,  unacquainted  with  the  character  and  wants  of  the 
poor.  The  poverty  of  their  minds,  their  inability  to  follow 
a  train  of  reasoning,  their  prejudices  and  superstitions, 
were  quite  unknown  to  him.  All  the  usual  hindrances  to 
dealing  with  them,  that  are  commonly  ascribed  to  a 


288  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

college  life,  were  his  in  full  force.  But  there  were  some 
points  arising  out  of  his  peculiar  character  and  tastes  that 
lessened  the  difficulty.  One  of  these  was  his  love  of 
plain  and  simple  Saxon  English,  his  dislike  of  everything  like 
what  is  called  '  fine  writing,'  and  his  study  of  a  rhetorical 
and  forcible  manner  of  expression.  To  those  who  look 
upon  learning  and  scholarship  as  identical  with  long  words 
and  abstruse  thoughts,  it  seemed  a  marvel  how  one  whose 
knowledge  lay  so  much  more  in  books  than  in  men,  whose 
mind  was  both  by  nature  and  culture  raised  above  the  com- 
mon standard,  could  '  condescend  to  men  of  low  estate/ 
and  clothe  his  thoughts  in  language  suited  to  their  capacity. 
But  this  mystery  found  its  key  in  the  simplicity  which 
belongs  to  the  substance  not  the  shadow  of  learning,  and 
in  the  delight  he  had  ever  taken  in  pure  mother-English 
freed  from  all  the  foreign  innovations  that  modern  affectation 
has  introduced.  The  chief  means,  however,  by  which  the 
want  of  experience  and  knowledge  touching  the  minds  and 
habits  of  the  poor  was  overcome,  was  the  love  he  felt  to- 
wards all  his  fellow-creatures,  and  his  sympathy  in  all  their 
concerns.  In  earlier  days  this  Christ-like  mind  had  mani- 
fested itself  towards  his  friends,  towards  servants,  towards 
all  with  whom  he  was  brought  into  contact.  It  now  taught 
him  to  talk  to  his  poor  parishioners  and  enter  into  their 
interests  with  the  feeling  of  a  father  and  a  friend.  This  is 
the  feature  in  his  character  on  which  the  people  of 
Alton  now  love  most  to  dwell  in  recollecting  their  former 
minister. 

"  From  the  circumstances  of  the  place,  it  necessarily  hap 
pened  that  Augustus  could  not  leave  his  own  house  to  gc 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  289 

abroad  without  passing  by  the  cottages  of  the  greater  part 
of  his  people ;  while  they,  too,  were  constantly  reminded  of 
him  and  made  familiar  with  his  ordinary  habits  of  life  by 
their  close  neighbourhood.  Many,  doubtless,  have  watched 
his  pacings  to  and  fro  on  the  little  garden  terrace  near  the 
house,  and  felt  a  grateful  love  spring  up  in  their  hearts  as 
they  thought  how  often  the  meditations  there  indulged  were 
directed  to  their  profit. 

"  Nor  did  those  simple-minded  people  fail  to  look  on  him 
with  reverence  when,  seated  in  his  study  in  the  midst  of  his 
books,  they  beheld  the  sources  whence  he  drew  so  much  cf 
knowledge  and  wisdom  as  passed  their  understanding.  He 
had  the  power  of  throwing  himself  out  of  himself  into  the 
feelings  and  interests  of  others ;  nor  did  he  less  draw  out 
their  sympathies  into  his  own,  and  make  them  sharers  in 
his  pleasures  and  his  concerns.  It  was  not  only  the  con- 
descension of  a  superior  to  those  over  whom  he  was  placed, 
it  was  far  more  the  mutual  interchange  of  feeling  of  one  who 
loved  to  forget  the  difference  of  station  to  which  each  was 
called,  and  to  bring  forward  the  brotherly  union  as  members 
of  one  family  in  Christ,  children  of  the  same  Heavenly 
Father,  in  which  blessed  equality  all  distinctions  are  done 
away.  Often  would  he  ask  their  counsel  in  matters  of  which 
he  was  ignorant,  and  call  upon  their  sympathy  in  his  thank- 
ful rejoicing.  His  garden,  his  hay-field,  his  house,  were  as 
it  were  thrown  open  to  them,  as  he  made  them  partakers  of 
his  enjoyment,  or  sought  for  their  assistance  in  his  need. 
And  when  any  cause  of  alarm  to  his  property  occurred,  they 
showed  how  fully  they  had  unconsciously  imbibed  the  feel- 
ing that  it  was  theirs  too.  In  him  they  found  a  friend  ready 

VOL.  i.  u 


2QO  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

to  listen  to  all  their  little  grievances,  and  prompt  to  remedy 
them  when  it  was  possible  to  do  so. 

"  His  exceeding  love  of  justice  and  hatred  of  oppression 
made  him  energetic  in  restoring  the  rights  of  all  who  had 
been  in  any  way  injured ;  while  his  respect  for  '  the  powers 
that  be  ' — his  child-like  submission  to  authority — prevented 
his  sanctioning  for  a  moment  any  insubordination  of  feeling, 
or  undue  exaltation  of  the  lower  above  the  higher  classes. 
The  attempt  to  soften  the  hearts  of  the  farmers  to  their  ser- 
vants, which  he  continually  laboured  to  effect,  was  specially 
needed  in  the  winter  of  1830,  when  so  much  of  hostility  was 
manifested  between  the  two  orders  in  the  riots  that  took 
place.  He  then  showed  himself  foremost  in  defending  the 
property  of  his  chief  farmer  in  the  formidable  attack  made 
upon  it,  and  at  the  risk  of  his  personal  safety  addressed  the 
rioters  to  try  to  avert  the  destruction  they  were  bent  on. 
Two  of  the  most  furious  amongst  them  held  their  weapons 
over  his  head,  enraged  at  his  interference  with  their  purpose, 
and  they  were  withheld  from  offering  him  violence  only  by 
the  timely  interposition  of  a  neighbouring  farmer,  who  came 
up  at  the  moment.  In  consequence  of  his  thus  taking  part 
with  the  farmers,  the  rectory  was  threatened  with  an  attack. 
Before,  however,  the  threat  could  be  executed,  the  heads  of 
the  mob  were  taken  and  the  rest  dispersed.  But  though  he 
spared  no  pains  to  defend  his  neighbour  and  to  detect  after- 
wards the  unhappy  men  who  had  wantonly  ravaged  his 
house  and  maimed  his  person,  when  the  prisoners  were  tried 
at  Salisbury  and  evidence  was  wanting  to  convict  the  chief 
offender  of  the  full  crime  he  was  supposed  to  be  guilty  of, 
he  returned  home  rejoicing  in  the  beauty  of  his  country's 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  29 1 

laws,  which  administered  justice  so  strictly  and  impartially, 
and  inclined  to  the  side  of  mercy  rather  than  of  punishment. 

"  One  instance  of  the  interest  he  took  in  the  welfare  of 
the  lowest  of  his  parishioners  occurred  in  a  dispute  between 
a  young  lad  and  his  master,  ending  in  a  slight  misdemeanour 
on  the  part  of  the  boy,  for  which  he  was  committed  to  gaol. 
Having  in  vain  tried  to  save  him  from  this  punishment, 
which  he  thought  too  severe  a  one,  he  sought  by  every 
means  in  his  power  to  turn  it  to  his  good,  and,  both  by 
writing  him  letters  while  in  prison  and  visiting  him  there,  to 
soften  his  heart,  and  bring  him  to  a  right  sense  of  his  duty 
to  God  and  man.  A  great  change  has  since  taken  place  in 
the  character  of  this  young  man,  and  he  is  now  as  steady 
and  seriously  disposed  as  his  anxious  friend  desired  him  to 
become. 

"  It  was  a  favourite  saying  of  his,  '  We  must  get  at  the 
souls  of  the  poor  through  their  bodies ;'  and,  in  accordance 
with  this  principle,  his  delight  in  ministering  to  their  tem- 
poral comfort  was  extreme.  The  arrival  of  a  stock  of 
clothing  for  the  poor  was  an  event  of  such  rejoicing  that  all 
who  were  in  the  house  could  not  help  sharing  in  his  joy. 
The  half-starved  peasant,  in  receiving  his  warm  jacket,  was 
less  glad  at  heart  in  his  new  possession  than  he  who  was 
thus  enabled  by  God  to  share  his  abundance  with  those 
who  needed  it.  Often  would  his  heart  seem  full  to  over- 
flowing when,  at  a  feast  prepared  for  the  old  men  and 
women  among  his  flock,  he  waited  on  them  himself,  and,  by 
by  his  gentle  and  loving  words,  gave  a  savour  to  their  food 
which  it  would  otherwise  have  wanted.  It  was  clearly  he 
who  felt  the  debt  of  gratitude  to  be  the  greatest  in  being 


292  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

permitted  to  give  to  the  least  of  his  brethren  in  his  Master's 
name.  But  the  lively  interest  he  took  in  all  their  worldly 
concerns  was  shown  most  fully  when  visiting  the  allotments 
which  he  had  portioned  out  to  each  cottager  from  off  the 
glebe.  His  delight,  as  he  collected  these  his  tenants  round 
him  by  his  kitchen  fire,  and  consulted  their  respective  in- 
clinations and  powers  of  cultivating  their  little  plots  of 
ground,  according  to  the  size  of  their  families,  was  very 
great.  Nor  did  he  fail  to  encourage  the  industrious  and 
reprove  the  negligent  husbandman,  in  such  a  manner  as 
testified  how  truly  their  gain  and  their  loss  was  his  also. 
On  many  a  summer's  evening,  when  the  labourer  after  his 
day's  work  repaired  to  his  allotted  garden,  would  his  kind 
friend  come  and  stand  by  and  watch  his  progress  in  pre- 
paring the  ground,  or  weeding  it,  or  sowing  his  seed,  and 
talk  over  the  various  crops  of  potatoes  and  beans  or  barley 
that  he  hoped  to  see  spring  up  in  it,  and  this  in  so 
friendly  and  playful  a  tone  as  could  not  fail  to  win  all 
hearts.* 

"  It  may  be  mentioned,  as  a  proof  rather  of  the  prevailing 
lack  of  Christian  feeling  which  may  truly  '  set  one  mourn- 
ing,' than  of  any  remarkable  instance  of  consideration  on 
his  part,  that  a  labourer  who  had  been  allowed  to  leave  his 
work  and  was  sent  home  to  attend  his  mother's  dying-bed, 
without  deducting  the  wages-  due  to  him  had  he  continued 

*  Another  method  by  which  Augustus  Hare  materially  assisted  his. 
people  was  keeping  a  shop,  in  which  he  sold  at  two-thirds  of  the  cost 
price  all  kinds  of  clothing  and  materials  of  clothing.  The  shop  was- 
held  in  the  rectory-barn  once  every  week,  when  Mrs.  Hare  attended 
and  measured  out  the  flannels,  fustian,  &c.  No  amelioration  of  their 
condition  wa?  ever  more  valued  by  the  people  of  Alton  than  this. 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  293 


at  work,  was  so  touched  by  this  little  attention  to  his  feelings 
that  he  still  speaks  of  it  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"  But  though  the  temporal  good  and  comfort  of  his  people 
was  near  Augustus's  heart,  far  nearer  was  their  spiritual  wel- 
fare. On  his  first  coming  to  Alton  the  greater  part  of  his 
hearers  were  so  unaccustomed  to  listen  to  instruction  or  to 
follow  any  arguments,  that  his  earnestness  in  the  cause  of  God 
was  the  chief  lesson  which  taught  them.  It  seemed  to  be  the 
prominent  impression  on  all,  whether  they  understood  his 
teaching  or  no,  whether  they  were  disposed  to  profit  by  it  or 
no,  '  Mr.  Hare  does  long  to  save  our  souls.'  The  great  im- 
portance he  attached  to  their  serving  God,  and  the  high 
standard  of  Christian  life  he  set  before  them,  were  the  points 
that  chiefly  impressed  their  minds  in  the  beginning  of  his 
ministry  among  them,  and  it  seemed  to  awaken  in  many  a 
sense  of  their  own  shortcomings  in  godliness.  As  he  became 
more  intimate  with  the  capacities  and  wants  of  his  people, 
and  still  more  in  proportion  as  his  own  spiritual  feelings 
became  fresher  and  purer  from  increased  experience  of  the 
truths  he  had  to  declare,  his  teaching  became  more  adapted 
to  the  congregation  before  him.  Human  reasonings  gave 
way  to  simpler  and  more  spiritual  appeals  to  the  hearts  of 
his  hearers,  and  the  people  were  themselves  alive  to  the 
change,  and  observed,  '  how  our  minister  does  grow,1  and 
that  '  he  went  more  and  more  on  in  the  Scriptures.' 

"  It  was  in  the  winter  of  1830,  that,  finding  how  ignorant 
they  were  of  the  meaning  of  what  they  heard  in  church,  he 
began  assembling  the  men  of  both  parishes  once  a  week  in 
a  barn  adjoining  the  rectory.  One  of  the  Gospels,  or  the 
Acts,  was  then  gone  through,  and  explained  in  a  familiar 


294  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

way,  illustrated  so  as  to  bring  it  home  to  their  comprehen- 
sion, beginning  and  ending  with  a  short  prayer.  Many 
expressed  the  benefit  they  derived  from  this  mode  of 
teaching,  and  the  additional  interest  it  gave  in  all  they 
heard  in  church,  and  the  attendance  there  was  much  in- 
creased from  that  time.  He  took  great  delight  in  thus 
drawing  them  around  him,  and  in  the  opportunity  it  afforded 
of  speaking  to  them  more  familiarly  and  directly  than  the 
usual  services  admitted  of.  Any  little  events  that  had 
occurred  in  the  parish,  any  misbehaviour  or  misunder- 
standing, might  then  be  commented  on  or  set  right.  It  was 
one  of  his  constant  practices  to  seize  on  any  passing  cir- 
cumstance, and  turn  it  to  profitable  account.  A  few  words 
thus  spoken  in  season,  how  good  are  they !  More  especially 
while  standing  over  the  grave  of  one  newly  committed  to 
the  dust,  would  he  address  the  mourners  around  with  suitable 
words  of  warning  and  consolation,  and,  while  he  bid  them 
not  sorrow  as  those  without  hope,  exhort  them  to  lose  no 
time  in  seeking  Him  who  is  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life, 
that  when  they  too  must  lie  down  in  the  grave  they  might 
lose  their  life  only  to  find  it.  On  hearing  of  the  death  of  a 
man  whose  sick-bed  he  had  seldom  quitted  for  some  days, 
he  hastened  to  the  cottage  without  loss  of  time — '  Perhaps 
in  the  first  moments  of  their  affliction  I-  may  be  able  to  say 
something  to  the  mother  and  her  children  that  may  touch 
their  hearts;'  and  so,  collecting  them  around  him,  he 
sought  to  impress  on  them  the  warning  which  the  father's 
sudden  illness  and  death  had  spoken  to  all. 

"  The  misconduct  of  any  one  that  he  thought  well  of  was 
a  real  grief  to  him,  an  1  he  would  spare  no  pains  to  bring  the 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  295 

offender  back  to  the  right  path  ;  and  his  joy  in  the  slightest 
sign  of  amendment  was  proportionally  great.  A  poor 
woman  once  mourning  over  the  ungodly  disposition  and 
behaviour  of  her  only  son,  he  cheered  her  by  the  story  of 
Monica's  prayers  for  Augustine,  and  encouraged  her  to 
pray  and  not  faint,  in  the  hope  that  God  would  hear  her 
prayers  and  be  pleased  to  turn  his  heart.  Any  surly  or 
ungracious  behaviour  towards  himself  was  at  all  times  a 
stimulus  to  show  a  more  than  usual  degree  of  loving-kind- 
ness, and  to  endeavour  by  continuance  in  courteous  words 
and  deeds  to  subdue  the  unkindly  and  harsh  feeling.  In  a 
road  along  which  he  frequently  passed  there  was  a  work- 
man employed  in  its  repair,  who  met  his  gentle  questions 
and  observations  with  gruff  answers  and  sour  looks.  But 
as  day  after  day  the  persevering  mildness  of  his  words  and 
manner  still  continued,  the  rugged  features  of  the  man  gave 
way,  and  his  tone  assumed  a  far  softer  character. 

"  The  one  pattern  ever  before  his  eyes  was  his  Lord  and 
Master  Jesus  Christ ;  the  first  question  he  asked  himself, 
'  What  would  Jesus  Christ  have  me  to  do  ?  What  would 
He  have  done  in  my  place  ? '  Receiving  once  an  almost 
insulting  letter  from  a  person  to  whom  he  had  shown  great 
kindness,  he  sat  down  immediately  to  answer  it ;  and  when 
the  extreme  mildness  of  the  reply  was  objected  to,  as 
addressed  to  one  undeserving  of  such  forbearance  and 
meriting  rather  a  rebuke,  his  answer  was,  '  I  am  not  aware 
that  I  deserve  better  treatment  than  my  master  Jesus 
Christ,  and  He  was  dealt  with  more  roughly  than  I  am,'  or 
words  to  this  effect. 

"  On  all  Saints-Days,  and  on  Wednesdays  and  Fridays  in 


2g6  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Lent,  service  was  performed  in  church  at  such  an  hour  as 
might  best  suit  the  habits  of  the  labouring  poor ;  and  by 
shortening  the  number  of  prayers,  it  was  brought  within  the 
limits  of  time  they  could  devote  to  such  a  purpose- - 
between  their  return  home  for  dinner,  at  eleven  o'clock, 
and  the  going  back  to  their  work.  Those  who  could  not 
attend,  he  exhorted  at  the  sound  of  the  church-bell  to 
follow  George  Herbert's  rule,  and,  while  in  the  field,  to 
worship  their  God  in  heart  and  mind.  On  these  occasions 
he  was  wont  to  explain  the  epistle  or  gospel,  and  in  a  few 
words  to  give  such  instruction  as  the  time  admitted  of; 
and  his  people  often  said  they  learnt  much  at  such  seasons. 
In  the  last  year  of  his  stay  at  Alton,  he  also  adopted  the 
plan  on  a  Sunday  of  commenting  on  the  Old  Testament 
lesson  in  the  morning  service,  as  there  was  then  commonly 
no  sermon  except  in  the  afternoon ;  and  this  exposition  he 
used  to  call  '  Postilling.' 

"  From  his  first  coming  to  Alton-Barnes,  it  was  an 
earnest  wish  of  his  heart  to  do  something  for  the  neglected 
people  of  Alton-Priors,  who  were  as  sheep  having  no 
shepherd.  Once  in  three  weeks  only  did  a  clergyman  from 
a  distance  come  to  perform  service  in  the  church,  and  in 
the  intermediate  time  no  notice  whatever  was  taken  of  any  of 
the  parishioners.  His  desire  was  to  have  had  the  church  of 
Alton-Priors,  which  was  very  much  out  of  repair,  and  the 
larger  of  the  two,  fitted  up  so  as  to  hold  the  joint  congrega- 
tions of  the  two  villages,  and  to  have  had  the  two  parishes 
united  in  one.  But  this  could  not  be  effected  without  the 
concurrence  of  the  proprietor,  and  the  passing  of  an  Act  of 
Parliament  for  the  purpose.  He  therefore  performed  the 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  297 


duty  alternately,  morning  and  evening,  in  the  two  churches, 
the  same  congregation  attending  in  both ;  and  finding  the 
church  in  Alton-Barnes  too  small  to  contain  the  additional 
number  who  attended  from  Alton-Priors,  he  had  the  arch 
communicating  with  the  chancel  considerably  widened,  so 
as  to  give  space  for  additional  pews,  and  admit  those  who 
sate  in  the  chancel  to  hear  and  see,  from  which  they  were 
before  shut  out.  For  the  equality  shown  to  the  inhabitants 
of  both  parishes,  in  this  and  other  respects,  they  ever 
expressed  the  most  grateful  feeling. 

"  In  the  vale  of  Pewsey  the  parishes  are  nearly  all  small 
and  closely  adjoining  each  other,  and  as  every  church  has 
its  own  minister,  the  number  of  clergy  is  proportionally 
great.  It  seemed  desirable  that  these  clerical  brethren 
should  form  some  closer  bond  of  union  than  the  common 
mode  of  visiting  presented,  and  meet  together  more  ex- 
pressly for  purposes  connected  with  their  calling.  He 
therefore  united  with  his  brother  clergy  in  forming  a  clerical 
society,  one  object  which  he  felt  to  be  specially  needed 
being  the  removal  of  prejudices  and  lessening  of  party 
feeling  in  the  minds  of  all  towards  each  other,  and  the 
enabling  those  who  were  young  in  their  profession  to 
benefit  by  the  experience  of  their  elders.  Many  difficulties 
arose  from  the  difference  of  opinion  that  prevailed  among 
the  members  as  to  the  propriety  of  beginning  their  meetings 
with  prayer,  and  as  to  the  nature  of  that  preparatory  prayer. 
The  High  Churchmen  were  strongly  prejudiced  against  any 
use  of  prayer  on  such  occasions,  from  a  notion  of  its  like- 
ness to  dissenting  societies ;  the  zealous  Evangelicals  urged 
the  advantages  of  extempore  prayer  as  fitted  for  the  peculiar 


298  MEMORIALS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

circumstances  of  the  time  or  place,  and  they  resolutely 
refused  to  agree  in  the  formation  of  any  society  for  clerical 
purposes  that  did  not  adopt  some  form  of  worship  at  its 
beginning.  The  middle  course  that  Augustus  took  was  to 
propose  the  selection  of  suitable  prayers  out  of  the' Liturgy, 
alleging  that  they  might  in  this  way  approach  as  nearly  as 
the  spirit  of  the  times  would  admit  of  to  the  habits  of  the 
olden  times,  when  divine  service  used  daily  to  be  performed 
in  the  church.  After  much  discussion,  and  the  lapse  of  a 
year,  in  which  all  parties  drew  nearer  together,  the  society 
was  formed,  chiefly  through  his  instrumentality,  upon  the 
plan  he  had  suggested,  and  it  has  since  continued  in 
brotherly  harmony.  On  this  and  other  occasions  Augustus 
would  often  say  his  was  '  Halfway  House.'  There  were 
few  things  which  made  him  more  angry  than  to  hear  people 
use  the  expression  of  'going  too  far'  when  applied  to  reli- 
gion. '  Too  far!  when  shall  we  go  too  far  in  serving  and 
loving  God,  in  being  made  like  Christ?'  Disliking  all 
illiberality  of  feeling,  he  was  more  particularly  annoyed  by 
it  when  expressed  towards  those  who,  acting  from  religious 
motives  or  scruples,  differed  in  opinion  or  manner  of  life 
from  others.  In  such  cases  above  all  others  he  thought  the 
motive  hallowed  the  act  so  far  as  to  entitle  it  to  be  regarded 
with  respect  and  permitted  in  charity,  even  if  not  altogether 
consistent  with  the  strictest  judgment  and  most  enlightened 
wisdom. 

"  In  earlier  years  he  had  been  ever  forward  to  assert  the 
cause  of  truth,  and  fight  manfully  under  its  banner  when- 
ever he  thought  it  was  opposed ;  nor  was  he  slow  to  wield 
his  sword  for  liberty  or  justice.  In  truth,  he  seemed  to  be 


HUME   PORTRAITURE.  299 


the  champion  of  righteousness  under  every  form,  and  in 
society  was  consequently  often  engaged  in  discussion  and 
argument.  From  the  active  spring  of  his  own  mind  he  was 
usually  foremost  in  stirring  up  conversation  in  others,  and 
drawing  out  their  thoughts  by  the  vigour  of  his  own.  But 
latterly  he  became  much  more  reserved  and  silent  in  society. 
This  arose  partly  from  an  increasing  dislike  to  anything  like 
controversy,  and  from  the  consciousness  of  how  much  his 
own  opinions  differed  from  others.  On  subjects  both  of 
religion  and  politics,  there  was  in  the  prevailing  mind  of  the 
age,  so  much  in  the  one  of  party  feeling  and  sectarian  spirit, 
and  in  the  other  so  little  of  enlarged  and  sound  wisdom 
looking  beyond  the  expediency  of  the  present  moment  and 
temporal  good,  that  he  found  it  difficult  to  sympathise  in  the 
views  of  many  whom  he  respected. 

"  While,  however,  he  censured  the  error  of  others,  he  wa5 
sure  to  spare  and  excuse  the  holder  of  it.  In  points  of 
personal  conduct,  too,  he  had  the  rare  faculty  of  hating  the 
sin  and  loving  the  sinner.  His  charity  and  liberality  ot 
mind  was  not  the  kind-hearted  easiness  of  a  naturally  sweet 
disposition,  reluctant  to  find  fault  and  tolerant  of  evil.  In 
him  a  severe  love  of  truth  and  uprightness,  a  hatred  of  all 
iniquity,  was  blended  closely  with  his  feeling  of  kindness 
and  fear  of  giving  pain.  An  instance  of  cruelty,  of  oppres- 
sion, or  of  falsehood,  would  make  a  change  pass  over  his 
countenance ;  his  whole  soul  seemed  to  revolt  at  the  mention 
of  any  unkindness  or  ungodliness ;  and  if  in  any  case  an  op- 
portunity occurred  where  he  could  hope  to  convince  any  one 
of  the  evil  of  his  way,  no  false  delicacy  to  the  person  con- 
cerned, nor  indulgence  to  his  own  feelings,  hindered  him 


300  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

from  speaking  the  whole  truth.  He  was  ready  to  administer 
the  stern  rebuke  no  less  than  the  gentle  encouragement  at 
his  Master's  call.  But,  in  speaking  about  others,  the  smallest 
spark  of  good  was  observed  and  dwelt  upon,  while  every 
contrary  principle  that  was  manifested  would  be  passed  over 
in  silence.  Even  in  speaking  of  those  with  whom  he  was 
most  nearly  connected,  not  a  word  of  blame  would  ever 
pass  his  lips.  Any  extenuation  of  misconduct  that  could 
be  urged,  any  allowances  that  could  be  made,  were  brought 
forward,  and  it  was  often  only  by  the  joy  he  expressed  at 
the  slightest  sign  of  improvement,  that  it  could  be  known 
how  much  he  had  felt  its  need,  and  how  earnestly  he  had 

desired  it. 

'Not  more  than  others  I  deserve, 
Yet  God  hath  given  me  more,' 

were  words  that  expressed  noi  only  his  feelings  on  one 
particular  occasion,  but  the  prevailing  disposition  of  his 
mind.  Continual  expressions  of  thankfulness  would  burst 
from  his  lips,  not  as  mere  words  denoting,  as  they  often  do, 
only  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  in  the  blessings  he  was  enjoy- 
ing, but  they  were  the  outpourings  of  a  heart  full  of  thankful 
love  to  Him  who  bestowed  the  blessings,  to  the  Giver  not 
only  of  the  great  gifts,  but  of  every  little  daily  comfort  of 
life ;  and  this,  his  gratitude,  sprang  up  from  the  deepest 
sense  of  his  own  unworthiness  of  such  mercies. 

"  Perfect  contentedness  with  what  was  appointed  for  him, 
and  deep  thankfulness  for  all  the  good  things  given  him, 
marked  his  whole  being.  In  deciding  what  should  be  done, 
or  where  he  should  go,  or  how  he  should  act,  the  question 
of  how  far  it  might  suit  his  own  convenience,  or  be  agree- 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  301 

able  to  his  own  feelings,  was  kept  entirely  in  the  background 
till  all  other  claims  were  satisfied.  It  was  not  apparently  at 
the  dictate  of  duty  and  reason  that  these  thoughts  were  sup- 
pressed and  made  secondary ;  it  seemed  to  be  the  first,  the 
natural  feeling  in  him,  to  seek  first  the  things  of  others  and 
to  do  the  will  of  God,  and  to  look  at  his  own  interest  in 
the  matter  as  having  comparatively  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
And  so  great  a  dread  had  he  of  being  led  to  any  selfish  or 
interested  views,  that  he  would  find  consolation  in  having 
no  family  to  include  in  the  consideration — '  Had  I  had 
children  I  might  have  fancied  it  an  excuse  for  worldly- 
mindedness  and  covetousness.'  His  children  truly  were  his 
fellow-men,  those  who  were  partakers  of  the  same  flesh  and 
blood,  redeemed  by  the  same  Saviour,  heirs  of  the  same 
heavenly  inheritance.  For  them  he  was  willing  to  spend 
and  be  spent,  for  them  he  was  covetous  of  all  the  good  that 
might  be  obtained.  A  friend,  on  looking  over  his  account- 
book,  and  seeing  how  comparatively  large  an  amount  of  his 
expenditure  had  been  directed  to  the  benefit  of  others, 
suggested  that  one  head  of  his  yearly  summary  should  be 
entitled  '  Public  Spirit.'  He  was  never  weary  in  well-doing, 
never  thought  he  had  done  enough,  never  feared  doing  too 
much.  Those  small  things,  which  by  so  many  are  esteemed 
as  unnecessary,  as  not  worth  while,  these  were  the  very  things 
he  took  care  not  to  leave  undone.  It  was  not  rendering  a 
service  when  it  came  /;/  his  way,  when  it  occurred  in  the 
natural  course  of  things  that  he  should  do  it ;  it  was  going 
out  of  the  way  to  help  others,  taking  every  degree  of  trouble 
and  incurring  personal  inconvenience  for  the  sake  of  doing 
good,  of  giving  pleasure  even  in  slight  things,  that  dis- 


302  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

tinguished  his  benevolent  activity  from  the  common  forms 
of  it.  The  love  that  dwelt  in  him  was  ready  to  be  poured 
forth  on  whomsoever  needed  it,  and,  being  a  free-will 
offering,  it  looked  for  no  return,  and  felt  no  obligation 
conferred. 

"  In  society  he  did  not  choose  out  the  persons  most  con- 
genial to  his  own  tastes  to  converse  with.  If  there  was 
any  one  more  dull  and  uninviting  than  others,  he  would 
direct  his  attention  to  that  one,  and  while  he  raised  the 
tone  of  conversation  by  leading  such  persons  to  subjects  of 
interest,  it  was  done  in  so  gentle,  so  unobtrusive  a  manner, 
that  it  seemed  as  if  the  good  came  from  them,  and  instead 
of  being  repelled  and  disheartened  by  his  superior  know- 
ledge, they  would  feel  encouraged  at  finding  they  were  less 
ignorant  than  they  had  supposed  themselves  to  be.  How 
often  has  the  stiffness,  the  restraint  of  a  small  party  been 
dispelled  by  the  loving  manner  and  words  with  which  he 
would  seem  to  draw  all  together,  and  endeavour  to  elicit 
the  good  in  all ;  and  though  by  nature  excitable,  and  there- 
fore dependent  on  outward  circumstances  more  than  many, 
there  was  ever  an  inward  spring  of  active  thought  which 
made  his  conversation  quite  as  lively  and  energetic,  when 
alone  with  his  family,  as  when  called  into  play  by  the 
exertion  of  entertaining  guests.  Yet,  although  he  enjoyed 
society,  he  liked  to  be  often  alone — -he  liked  to  walk  alone, 
to  be  in  his  study  alone.  There  seemed  to  be  greater 
freedom  for  his  mind  when  thus  without  companions,  and 
he  would  utter  aloud  what  was  passing  in  his  mind,  or  the 
words  he  was  composing  for  his  sermons." 

The  portrait  which  the  loving  wife  began  to  paint  breaks 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  303 

off  here,  is  left  unfinished,  and  as  it  was  left  by  her  hands, 
so  must  it  remain ;  no  one  could  venture  to  retouch  it. 

Only  a  mile  from  Alton,  separated  from  it  by  the  vast 
undulation  of  treeless  corn-fields,  another  little  village  called 
Stanton  clusters  around  its  church  and  a  few  elm-fringed 
meadows.  Hither,  soon  after  the  Hares  were  settled  at 
Alton,  George  Majendie  came  as  rector,  and  the  two  clergy- 
men were  soon  united  in  the  closest  and  most  affectionate 
intimacy.  Scarcely  a  day  passed  without  their  meeting. 

"  When  I  came  to  reside  in  Wiltshire,"  wrote  Mr. 
Majendie  several  years  after,  "  I  found  that  Mr.  Hare  was 
my  nearest  clerical  neighbour.  J  was  not  at  that  time 
personally  acquainted  with  him,  but  I  had  known  his  cha- 
racter at  Oxford  as  a  man  of  talent  and  of  considerable 
literary  acquirements.  I  soon  became  intimate  with  him, 
and  then  found  that  he  was  not  only  an  accomplished 
scholar,  but  that  his  heart  was  in  his  work  as  a  minister  of 
Christ,  and  that  he  had  truly  devoted  his  life  to  the  care  of 
*  those  few  sheep  in  the  wilderness '  to  whom  he  had  been 
sent  as  a  shepherd.  Like  George  Herbert,  he  '  knew  the 
ways  of  learning,  but  declined  them  for  the  service  of  his 
master  Jesus.'  He  was  not  only  ready  to  do  good  to  the 
poor  around  him  on  Christian  principle,  but  he  seemed  to 
identify  himself  with  them,  to  study  their  characters,  to 
enter  into  their  feelings — literally,  '  to  weep  with  those  that 
wept,  and  rejoice  with  those  that  rejoiced.'  I  have  often 
heard  him  express  his  admiration  of  the  strength  and  fulness 
of  their  homely  phrases,  some  of  which  he  loved  to  intro- 
duce into  his  sermons. 

"  I  -shall  never  forget  his  appearance  at  the  lectures  he 


304  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

used  to  give  to  poor  men  on  Wednesday  evenings.  The 
place  was  a  small  barn  on  his  own  premises,  and  the  many 
holes  in  the  boarding,  but  ill  covered  with  sackcloth,  ad- 
mitted the  cold  air  freely.  There  was  a  long  table  reaching 
from  one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other,  and  on  each  side  of 
the  table  sat  the  smock-frocked  audience,  most  of  them  old 
men,  each  of  those  that  could  read  with  his  Bible  before 
him.  Mr.  Hare  himself  stood  at  the  head  of  the  table,  to 
distribute  to  them  the  bread  of  life.  His  great  coat  was 
closely  buttoned  up  to  the  chin,  and  a  large  woollen  wrapper 
covered  him  up  to  the  lower  lip.  His  tall  figure  was  erect, 
his  expressive  countenance  full  of  animation — his  face  and 
figure  were  not  unlike  those  of  Mr.  Pitt.  A  drawing-room 
lamp,  strangely  in  contrast  with  the  scene,  shed  a  strong 
light  upon  the  wrinkled  and  weather-beaten  faces  of  the 
villagers. 

"  When  Augustus  Hare  heard  of  any  kind  or  noble  action 
performed  by  another  person,  I  have  seen  him  suddenly 
start  up  from  his  chair,  with  a  strong  exclamation  of  delight 
uttered  in  his  shrill  tone,  and  hurriedly  pace  the  room, 
rubbing  his  hands  with  glee.  He  really  felt '  a  luxury  in 
doing  good.'  I  remember  being  present  at  a  supper  which 
he  gave  to  some  old  men  in  the  barn  already  mentioned, 
where  he  assisted  in  waiting  on  the  poor  people,  evidently 
enjoying  the  repast  more  than  those  who  partook  of  it ; 
and  when  the  entertainment  was  over,  and  he  returned  to 
his  own  fireside,  his  first  act  was  to  run  up  to  Mrs.  Hare 
and  kiss  her,  with  an  ecstasy  of  benevolence  too  big  to  be 
repressed. 

"  He  seemed  always  to  think  all  others  better  than  him 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  305 

self.  One  day  I  heard  him  speaking  of  one  of  the  poor 
men  of  his  parish,  and  I  asked  whether  he  was  a  good  man. 
*  Oh  yes,  he  is  a  good  man,  a  much  better  man  than  I  am.' 
On  another  occasion  I  remember  his  saying,  '  What  we  can 
do  for  God  is  little  or  nothing;  but  we  must  do  our  little 
nothings  for  his  glory.' 

"  His  whole  religion  was  full  of  affection.  He  was  not  a 
mere  orthodox  divine,  defining  with  the  closest  precision 
the  doctrines  which  he  taught,  but  every  doctrine  was 
mixed  up  in  his  soul  with  love — with  love  to  God  and  man. 
It  may  be  said  of  his  creed — 

'  Of  hope,  and  virtue,  and  affection  full.' 

I  well  remember  one  day  his  laying  his  hand  upon  his 
Bible,  and  saying,  with  an  indescribable  look  of  reverence 
and  delight,  'Oh,  this  dear  book  !'  On  another  occasion 
he  spoke  of  it  as,  '  God's  great  Medicine  Book,  full  of 
recipes  for  every  spiritual  malady.'" 

After  Augustus  Hare  was  taken  from  among  his  people,  one 
of  the  residents  in  Alton-Priors  wrote  :  "  I  can  truly  say  that 
the  glimpse  of  his  figure  approaching  our  home  made  my  heart 
leap  with  joy,  and  never  did  he  leave  it  without  impressing 
some  valuable  truth  on  my  mind.  Living  too,  as  I  did,  in 
a  parish  not  his  own,  but  one  to  which  he  voluntarily  and 
gratuitously  gave  a  pastor's  care  and  superintendence,  I  felt 
doubly  grateful  both  in  my  own  behalf  and  that  of  my 
fellow-parishioners ;  and  well  do  I  remember  on  one  occa- 
sion, when  sitting  alone  with  him  in  his  study,  the  striking 
answer  he  made  to  my  expression  of  thanks  for  his  kind- 
ness in  coming  daily  into  our  parish  to  spend  an  hour  bv 

VOL.  i.  x 


306  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  sick-bed  of  Charles  Gale,  a  poor  man,  who  I  believe, 
through  his  instrumentality,  to  have  died  in  peace  with  God 
through  Christ :  'God  has  given  me  an  abundance,'  he  said, 
'  of  which  I  deseme  nothing,  and  doubtless  for  wise  reasons 
has  withheld  from  me  the  blessing  of  children ;  and  if  I  never 
crossed  that  little  brook  which  separates  what  you  call  your 
parish  from  my  parish,  I  think  it  very  likely  that  Jesus  Christ 
would  say  to  me  in  the  Last  Day, you  do  not  belong  to  my  parish? 
"  Amongst  others,  I  believe  that  he  was  the  first  instru- 
ment under  God  in  awakening  serious  thoughts  for  her  soul 
in  Jane  Jennings.  She  told  me  that  that  which  first  made 
her  feel  a  sorrow  for  sin  was  a  sermon  which  he  preached 
in  Alton-Priors  Church.  She  said,  '  I  was  standing  by  the 
door,  and  as  he  was  earnestly  asking  us  what  we  came  to 
church  for — whether  we  prayed  with  our  hearts,  whether  we 
prayed  at  home  and  with  our  families — I  felt  as  I  had  never 
done  before,  and  when  I  went  home,  where  I  never  prayed 
at  all,  I  told  our  folks  I  was  sure  we  were  living  in  a  very 
different  way  to  what  we  ought  to  live  and  that  it  cut  me 
to  the  heart  to  see  our  minister  labouring  so  much  to  teach 
as,  and  that  we  paid  no  attention  to  his  words.'  And  then 
she  added,  'You  cannot  think  how  anxiously  I  looked 
through  the  sermon-books  afterwards,  to  see  if  that  sermon 
was  amongst  them,  and  when  I  found  it  I  was  so  very  glad.' 
She  also  told  me  that  soon  after  this  Mr.  Hare  made  a  rule 
that  before  the  baptism  of  any  child  its  parents  should  go- 
to him  for  advice  and  instruction,  and  it  so  happened  that 
Jane  and  her  husband  were  the  first  summoned  for  this 
purpose.  She  said  she  had  never  before  dreaded  anything 
so  much  in  her  life,  having  been  told  by  her  neighbours  she 


HOME   PORTRAITURE. 


307 


would  be  puzzled  with  hard  questions.  Her  minister  saw 
by  her  trembling  how  frightened  she  was,  and,  as  he  kindly 
put  a  chair  for  her  in  the  study,  said, '  Don't  be  frightened, 
or  think  I  keep  a  large  dog  to  bark  and  jump  out  at  you.' 
But  his  words  afterwards  made  too  deep  an  impression  ever 
to  be  forgotten,  for,  turning  to  the  parents,  he  said  with 
much  solemnity,  '  Do  you  wish  your  child  to  become  an 
angel  in  heaven,  or  a  devil  in  hdir  'If  I  were  going  to 
give  your  child  a  large  present  in  money,  say  twenty  pounds 
perhaps,  you  would  be  ready  and  willing  to  thank  me ;  how 
much  more  then  should  you  thank  God  for  allowing  you  to 
bring  your  child  to  the  font  at  baptism,  where  He  promises 
to  give  him  his  Holy  Spirit,  and  make  him  happy  for  ever, 
if  you  will  only  heartily  and  earnestly  pray  for  his  blessing?' 
After  these  words  (which  first  awakened  in  the  mother's 
heart  that  feeling  of  responsibility  she  now  so  largely  pos- 
sesses for  her  children)  he  knelt  down  with  them,  earnestly 
praying  both  for  them  and  their  child,  and  Jane  said  to  me, 
'  God  knows,  and  at  the  Last  Day  I  shall  know  too,  but  I 
always  think  that  prayer  was  answered,  for  none  of  my 
other  six  children  ever  asked  me  the  questions  which  this 
little  boy  does — for  always,  when  I  have  him  alone  with 
me,  he  begins  talking  of  Jesus,  and  asking  what  he  must  do 
to  please  Him,  and  when  he  can  go  to  see  Him.' 

"  When  Prudence  Tasker,  who  had  been  one  of  the  first 
received  into  his  newly-formed  Sunday-school,  was  seized 
with  violent  illness,  how  tenderly  did  Mr.  Hare  daily  visit 
her  dying-bed,  obtaining  for  her  the  advice  of  an  eminent 
physician  in  addition  to  that  of  the  village  doctor,  often  him- 
self administering  her  medicines,  applying  her  leeches  him- 


308  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

self,  and  trying  to  overcome  the  repugnance  she  felt  to 
bleeding  by  telling  her  it  was  her  '  pastor '  who  desired  it ; 
and  how  often  since  have  her  parents  dwelt  upon  the 
prayers  which  he  offered  up  in  that  little  chamber  of  death  ! 

"  I  remember  David  King  telling  me  once  that  nothing 
ever  'cut1  him  so  much  as  the  words  which  Mr.  Hare 
preached  after  his  recovery  from  illness,  and  that  once 
while  working  in  his  garden,  his  minister,  whilst  talking  to 
him,  in  order  to  illustrate  the  wonderful  love  of  Christ  in 
taking  man's  fallen  nature  upon  him,  asked  David  how  he 
should  like  to  become  a  toad,  convincing  him  thereby  that 
however  loathsome  such  a  change  would  be  to  him,  yet  it 
was  nothing  compared  to  that  which  the  Son  of  God  under- 
went when  He  laid  aside  his  glory." 

Augustus  Hare  was  perhaps  the  first  village  preacher  (there 
have  been  many  since)  who  did  not  scruple  in  his  sermons 
to  speak  to  his  people  in  the  familiar  language  of  ordinary 
life,  and  who  made  use  of  apt  illustrations  drawn  from  the 
simple  surroundings  in  which  his  people  lived.  It  is 
probably  from  this  connection  with  outward  and 
tangible  things  that  so  many  of  his  words  still  live  in  the 
memories  of  his  congregation  as  vividly  as  when  they 
were  spoken.  The  following  are  instances  of  this  practical 
teaching : — 

"  The  road  of  life  is  not  a  turnpike  road.  It  is  a  path 
which  every  one  must  find  out  for  himself,  by  the  help  of 
such  directions  as  God  has  given  us ;  and  there  are  so  many 
other  paths  crossing  the  true  one  in  all  quarters,  and  the 
wrong  paths  are  so  well  beaten,  and  the  true  path  in  places 
is  so  faintly  marked,  so  many  persons  too  are  always  going 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  309 

the  wrong  way,  and  so  few  are  walking  straight  along  the 
right,  that  between  the  number  of  paths  to  puzzle  him,  and 
the  number  of  wrong  examples  to  lead  him  astray,  a  man,  if 
he  does  not  take  continual  heed,  is  in  great  danger  of  turn- 
ing into  a  wrong  path,  almost  without  perceiving  it.  You 
know  how  hard  it  is  for  a  stranger  to  find  his  way  over  the 
downs,  especially  if  the  evening  is  dark  and  foggy.  Yet 
there  the  man  is  at  liberty  to  make  out  the  path  as  well  as 
he  can.  No  one  tries  to  mislead  him.  But  in  the  paths  of 
life  there  are  always  plenty  of  companions  at  work  to  mis- 
lead the  Christian,  to  say  nothing  of  his  own  evil  passions 
and  appetites,  which  all  pull  him  out  of  the  way.  One 
neighbour  says  to  him,  'Take  this  road;  it  is  almost  as 
straight  as  the  other,  and  much  pleasanter.'  Another  says, 
*  Take  this  road ;  it  is  a  short  cut,  and  will  save  you  a  world 
of  trouble.'  A  third  says,  '  Walk  part  of  the  way  with  us 
for  company's  sake ;  you  cannot  be  far  wrong  if  you  keep 
with  us  ;  at  worst,  it  is  only  crossing  back  into  your  narrow 
lonely  path  if  you  don't  like  our  way  after  trying  it.'  A 
fourth  cries  to  him,  '  What  makes  you  so  particular  ?  Do 
you  fancy  you  know  the  road  to  heaven  better  than  any- 
body else  ?  We  are  all  going  there,  we  hope,  as  well  as 
you,  though  we  no  not  make  such  a  fuss  about  it.'  Is  it  a 
wonder  that,  with  so  many  bad  advisers  and  bad  examples 
to  turn  him  astray,  with  so  many  wrong  paths  to  puzzle  him, 
with  so  many  evil  passions  as  man  has  naturally  pulling  him 
out  of  the  straight  and  narrow  path — is  it  a  wonder,  I  say, 
that,  with  all  these  things  to  lead  them  wrong,  men  should 
so  often  go  wrong  ?  It  is  no  wonder ;  nay,  were  it  not  that 
God's  Word  is  a  lantern  to  our  feet  and  a  light  to  our  path 
— were  it  not  for  the  Spirit  of  God  crying  to  us,  '  This  is 
the  right  way,'  when  we  turn  aside  to  the  right  hand  or  to 
the  left — we  should  all  of  us  go  wrong  always." 


310  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

"  If  a  man  had  to  receive  a  legacy  by  going  to  Bristol, 
what  good  would  it  do  him  to  set  out  on  his  way  thither 
unless  he  went  all  the  way?  Would  he  get  anything  by 
going  as  far  as  Melksham,  or  even  as  far  as  Bath,  unless  he 
went  still  further?  The  legacy  is  to  be  paid  at  Bristol  and 
nowhere  else ;  and  if  the  man  is  lazy  or  fickle  enough  to 
stop  before  he  gets  to  Bristol,  not  a  sixpence  of  it  will  he 
receive.  Therefore  we  must  persevere  unto  the  journey's 
end  if  we  would  have  a  share  in  Christ's  great  legacy." 


"  Has  the  increase  of  godliness  amongst  us  kept  pace 
with  the  increase  of  our  Bibles  ?  Are  we  as  much  better  as 
we  ought  to  be  with  our  more  abundant  means  ?  Has  the 
fresh  seed  scattered  over  the  land  produced  a  proportionate 
increase  in  the  harvest?  These  are  very  important  ques- 
tions. For  if  the  Lord  of  the  farm,  if  the  great  Sower  does 
not  see  the  promise  of  a  crop  in  some  measure  answering 
to  the  good  seed  He  has  bestowed  on  the  land,  He  will  be 
sure  to  ask,  '  Why  is  this  ?  Did  I  not  sow  good  seed  in  the 
fields  of  England  ?  Then  how  come  they  to  be  so  full  of 
tares,  so  full  of  thistles,  so  full  of  poppies  ?  How  is  it  that 
in  some  parts  of  the  farm  I  even  see  the  foxglove  and  the 
deadly  nightshade  ?  Useless  weeds,  gaudy  weeds,  weeds  that 
overrun  the  ground,  even  poisonous  weeds,  I  see  in  it.  But 
I  see  not  the  plenty  of  good  wheat  which  I  ought  to  find, 
and  which  alone  can  be  stored  in  my  barn.  Why  has  the 
crop  failed  so  shamefully?'" 


"  How  often  do  we  see  the  sinner,  perched  on  the  dung- 
hill of  his  vices,  clapping  his  wings  in  self-applause,  and 
fancying  himself  a  much  grander  creature  than  the  poor 
Christian,  who  all  the  while  is  soaring  on  high  like  a  lark, 
and  mounting  on  his  way  to  heaven?" 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  311 

"  The  great  plenty  of  Bibles  and  Testaments  which  God 
has  given  us  in  this  land  makes  us,  I  fear,  more  neglectful 
than  we  ought  to  be  of  our  Prayer-books,  especially  of  that 
part  of  the  Prayer-book  which  contains  the  Epistles  and 
Gospels.  Now  this  is  just  the  same  kind  of  mistake  as  if  a 
man,  because  he  had  turnips  and  potatoes  in  his  fields,  were 
to  neglect  sowing  any  in  his  garden.  The  turnips  and 
potatoes  raised  in  gardens  are  generally  of  a  choicer  kind. 
So  it  is  with  the  little  portions  of  the  Epistles  and  Gospels 
which  are  selected  to  be  read  in  the  Communion  Service. 
They  are  like  so  many  choice  plants  culled  out  of  the  New 
Testament  for  some  useful  lesson  of  doctrine  or  practice." 

"  Do  not  think  it  enough  if  you  learn  to  spell,  and  to 
read,  and  to  say  the  words  of  Scripture,  but  seek  to  leam 
the  truths  of  Scripture.  Do  as  the  bees  do.  A  bee,  when 
it  sees  a  flower,  does  not  fly  round  and  round  it,  and  sip  it, 
and  then  off  again,  like  the  foolish,  idle  butterflies ;  it  settles 
on  the  flower  and  sucks  the  honey  out  of  it.  So  should 
you  when  you  come  to  one  of  the  beautiful  parables  which 
Jesus  spake,  or  to  one  of  the  miracles  which  Jesus  did ; 
you  should  do  as  the  bees  do — you  should  settle  your 
thoughts  on  what  you  read,  and  try  to  suck  the  honey  out 
of  it.  But  why  do  I  speak  of  the  parables  and  miracles  ? 
Almost  every  verse  of  the  New  Testament  has  its  honey. 
Almost  every  verse  contains  a  spiritual  truth  fit  to  nourish 
some  soul  or  other." 

"  You  can  no  more  see  a  Christian  grow  than  you  can 
see  the  corn  grow.  But  you  can  all  see  whether  it  has 
••Town  by  comparing  it  with  what  it  was  two  months  back. 
So  may  you  discover  whether  you  have  advanced  in  grace." 


312  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

"  Everything  which  God  has  set  apart  in  any  way  for  his 
own  and  put  his  mark  on,  everything  which  in  any  way  be- 
longs more  particularly  to  Him — His  word,  His  ordinances, 
His  house,  His  people — are  things  which  God  has  cleansed, 
therefore  we  must  not  call  them  common.  He  has  set  them 
apart  for  his  own  service ;  He  has  fenced  them  off,  as  it  were, 
from  the  waste  of  the  world,  and  has  enclosed  them  for  His 
own  use.  Hence  there  is  the  same  sort  of  difference  be- 
tween them  and  all  merely  worldly  and  common  things  as 
there  is  between  a  garden  and  Salisbury  Plain.  No  one 
who  knows  how  to  behave  himself  would  bring  a  horse  into 
a  garden,  or  walk  over  the  strawberry  beds,  or  trample  down 
the  flowers.  But  in  riding  from  here  to  Salisbury  everybody 
would  feel  himself  at  liberty,  while  crossing  the  downs,  to 
gallop  over  the  turf  at  pleasure.  Well,  the  same  difference 
which  there  is  between  common  down  and  a  cultivated 
garden,  the  same  is  there  also  between  worldly  days,  worldly 
books,  worldly  names,  worldly  people,  and  God's  day,  God's 
book,  God's  name,  and  God's  people.  The  former  are 
common,  and  may  be  treated  as  such;  the  latter  are  not 
common,  because  God  has  taken  them  to  Himself,  and 
brought  them  within  the  limits  of  his  sanctuary,  and  thrown 
the  safeguard  of  His  holiness  around  them." 


"  Many  of  you  can  lift  a  sack  of  wheat,  and  can  carry  it 
some  little  way.  But  think  of  being  condemned  to  walk 
from  here  to  Devizes,  or  rather  from  here  to  Bath,  with  a 
sack  of  wheat  on  your  shoulders  every  day  for  a  month 
together.  How  soon  would  the  stoutest  man  among  you 
break  down  under  such  a  load !  He  might  contrive  to 
stagger  on  a  little  way,  but  his  strength  before  long  would 
fail  him,  and  if  he  did  not  drop  his  load  it  would  crush  him. 
Now  sin — when  a  man  is  in  his  right  senses,  when  he  knows 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  313 

whither  he  ought  to  be  going — is  a  weight  on  the  soul,  and 
presses  it  down,  just  as  a  weight  on  the  back  presses  down 
the  body." 

"  The  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  altogether  a  practical 
thing.  Just  consider  how  we  are  taught  anything  else  that 
is  practical.  It  is  not  by  hearing  or  reading  about  making 
shoes  that  a  man  becomes  a  shoemaker,  but  by  trying  to 
make  them." 


"  The  means,  the  exercises  appointed  by  our  Saviour 
whereby  we  are  to  become  holy  and  godly,  are  His  sacra- 
ments, prayers — public  and  private — and  the  reading  and 
teaching  of  His  holy  word.  Still  the  means  are  not  the  end  ; 
the  road  which  leads  to  London  is  not  London." 

Nothing  seems  a  more  suitable  close  to  this  chapter  of 
general  reminiscences  of  Augustus  Hare's  life  at  his  beloved 
Alton  than  the  following  note,  written  Feb.  19,  1832,  by 
one  who  was  afterwards  his  sister-in-law,  L.  A.  H. : — 

"  I  am  just  come  up  to  bed,  dearest  Mia,  and  it  comes 
into  my  mind  to  copy  for  you  first  a  passage  I  met  with  in 
a  sermon  of  Jeremy  Taylor's.  Every  Sunday  evening  I 
settle  myself  in  a  corner,  with  a  book,  trying  to  shut  my 
eyes  to  all  without.  Often  comes  a  short  digression,  during 
which  I  am  fancying  all  you  and  the  Aug.  are  doing.  I 
hear  you  sing  the  evening  hymn,  kneel  with  you  to  prayers, 
end  with  praying  God  to  bless  you  both,  and  then  return 
my  attention  to  the  book.  This  evening  I  met  with  the 
following  passage,  and  send  it  you  privately,  thinking  that 
you  may  perhaps  find  as  good  a  likeness  for  it  in  somebody 
living  as  in  the  worthy  knight,  Sir  G.  Dalstone  : — 


314  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QL'IET   LIFE. 

"  '  For  God  was  pleased  to  invest  him  with  a  marvellous 
sweet  nature,  which  is  certainly  to  be  reckoned  as  one  half 
of  the  grace  of  God,  because  a  good  nature,  being  the  relics 
and  remains  of  that  shipwreck  which  Adam  made,  is  the 
proper  and  immediate  disposition  to  holiness,  as  the  corrup- 
tion of  Adam  was  to  disobedience  and  peevish  counsels.  A 
good  nature  will  not  upbraid  the  more  imperfect  person, 
will  not  deride  the  ignorant,  will  not  reproach  the  erring 
man,  will  not  smite  sinners  on  the  face,  will  not  despise  the 
penitent.  A  good  nature  is  apt  to  forgive  injuries,  to  pity 
the  miserable,  to  rescue  the  oppressed,  to  make  every  one's 
condition  as  tolerable  as  he  can,  and  so  would  he ;  for  as  when 
good-nature  is  heightened  by  the  grace  of  God,  that  which 
was  natural  becomes  now  spiritual,  so  these  actions  which 
were  pleasing  and  useful  to  men,  when  they  derive  from  a 
new  principle  of  grace,  they  become  pleasant  in  the  eyes  of 
•God — then  obedience  to  the  laws  is  Duty  to  God,  Justice  is 
Righteousness,  Bounty  becomes  Graciousness,  and  Alms  is 
Charity.' " 


VIII. 

TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON. 

"  The  happiest  periods  of  history  are  not  those  of  which  we 
hear  the  most :  in  the  same  manner  as  in  the  little  world  of 
man's  soul,  the  most  saintly  spirits  are  often  existing  in  those 
who  have  never  distinguished  themselves  as  authors,  or  left 
any  memorial  of  themselves  to  be  the  theme  of  the  world's 
talk,  but  who  have  led  an  interior  angelic  life,  having  borne 
their  sweet  blossoms  unseen,  like  the  young  lily  in  a  seques- 
tered vale,  on  the  banks  of  a  limpid  stream." — Broad-stone  of 
Honour. 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  j^LTON-BARNES,  Oct.  15,  1829.— Are  you  not  im- 
patient to  hear  of  our  first  beginning  ?  We  dined  at 
Woodhay  at  one  o'clock,  and  left  it  immediately  afterwards, 
not  without  some  regret  after  the  many  happy  days  we  have 
spent  there.  At  half-past  five  we  landed  at  our  own  door, 
where  Mary's  smiling  face  was  ready  to  greet  us.  You  have 
already,  I  dare  say,  anticipated  what  I  am  about  to  say — that 
we  found  ourselves  less  uncomfortable  than  we  expected.  The 
carpets  were  laid  down,  the  beds  put  up,  though,  to  be  sure, 
there  were  neither  bolsters  nor  pillows,  and  there  was  a 
strong  smell  of  paint ;  but  we  took  refuge  in  the  drawing- 
room,  where  it  does  not  penetrate,  and  with  the  one  table 
and  couple  of  chairs  Miss  Crowe  left  us,  we  managed  very 
well.  These,  with  the  piano,  were  our  sole  stock  of  fur- 
niture till  to-day,  when  the  arrival  of  fourteen  packages  has 


316  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

given  us  a  day's  hard  work  in  the  bam,  the  result  of  which 
is,  that  I  am  sitting  in  as  comfortable  a  drawing-room  as  I 
could  wish  to  see  or  sit  in. 

"  To-day  has  been  beautiful,  and  before  we  began  our 
morning's  work  we  took  an  exploring  walk,  and  after  wading 
through  a  bed  of  mortar  we  did  get  to  a  dry  walk  up  the 
downs.  Our  great  object  is  always  where  to  find  a  place 
tolerably  dry  for  our  walks,  and  our  first  errand  to  Devizes 
has  been  to  beg  the  shoemaker  to  come  and  measure  us  for 
waterproof  shoes.  In  spite,  however,  of  its  wet,  Alton  looks 
very  pretty — the  tints  of  the  trees  so  rich,  with  the  back- 
ground of  the  hills — and  the  creepers  in  front  of  the  house 
cluster  in  at  the  windows  quite  after  my  heart's  desire. 
There  are  many  little  reforms  wanted  in  the  way  of  making 
bells  ring  and  windows  shut ;  but  we  shall  not  do  anything 
beyond  these  needful  things  at  present.  Our  gardener's 
name  is  Gideon,  and  his  dress  a  brown  fur  cap,  a  short  drab 
jacket,  and  blue  plush  breeches  reaching  half-way  down  his 
legs.  He  and  all  the  people  here  talk  such  a  dialect  I  can 
hardly  understand  them.  I  do  so  much  enjoy  the  un- 
interrupted quiet,  and  it  seems  as  if,  in  fact,  we  were  now  for 
the  first  time  really  married.  How  little  difference  much  or 
little  money  makes  except  in  the  scale  of  things  in  a  small 
house ;  we  are  so  much  more  amply  supplied  with  common 
comforts  than  many  people  are  in  large  ones." 

"  Oct.  20. — A  week  has  done  wonders.  The  bellhangers 
have  put  in  order  all  the  bells  and  locks,  chimney-sweepers 
have  done  their  work,  and  a  carpenter  has  filled  up  the 
holes  and  crevices  in  floors  and  wainscoting  which  let  in  so 
much  air.  You  are  quite  right  in  not  wasting  any  com- 
passion upon  me ;  in  short,  could  you  see  me  in  the  evening 
reading  Coleridge's  '  Friend '  with  Augustus,  or  playing  to 
amuse  him,  or  watch  us  reading  over  some  of  his  old  letters, 
you  would  not  think  we  were  much  harassed  by  business. 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  317 

We  have  made  some  acquaintance  in  the  parish;  but  the 
cottages  are  so  low  that  I  fully  expect  every  time  that 
Augustus  will  break  his  head  against  the  beams.  A  school 
is  a  matter  of  great  difficulty.  Not  a  person  can  we  find 
either  here  or  in  Great  Alton,  as  they  call  Alton-Priors, 
who  seems  fit  to  teach  a  school,  and  the  way  in  which  the 
great  girls  last  Sunday  attempted  merely  a  spelling-book 
lesson  was  lamentable.  However,  they  are  all  eager  to 
belong  to  '  Mrs.  Hare's  school,'  and,  I  dare  say,  we  shall 
contrive  something  for  them.  On  Sunday,  as  there  is  only 
one  church-service,  it  leaves  a  long  time  for  them ;  but  the 
boys  even  on  that  day  are  out '  shepherding.' 

'•  We  never  think  or  speak  of  the  will,  or  anything  con- 
cerning it.  We  have  such  delightful  days  ;  we  go  up  '  Old 
Adam '  daily,  the  view  is  so  beautiful,  the  air  so  bracing. 
We  shall  have  ten  times  more  pleasure  in  seeing  things  grow 
before  our  eyes  into  comfort,  than  if  we  had  found  them  so. 
We  are  going  to  visit  the  Miss  Hares  at  Millard's  Hill, 
and  I  already  hear  my  own  laments  over  leaving  Alton." 

"  Millard's  Hill,  Noi*.  5. — My  school  on  Sunday  mounted 
up  from  three  to  twenty-three,  and  some  very  nice  girls,  and 
all  seeming  very  happy  to  be  taught ;  so  I  had  them  in  the 
afternoon  in  the  usual  church  hours,  and  made  the  bigger  girls 
teach  the  little  ones  their  letters.  One  of  them  is  called 
Charity  Begood.  I  do  not  remember  any  other  events 
before  I  left  our  dear  little  home.  I  left  Mary  to  super- 
intend carpet-making  and  cleaning,  &c.,  and  also  not  to 
shock  the  aunts  with  a  notion  of  my  being  a  fine  lady.  It 
is  a  very  pretty  drive  all  the  way  here,  about  thirty  miles,  a 
delightful  house,  capitally  furnished  and  thoroughly  com- 
fortable. They  were  delighted  to  see  us,  and  withal  are  so 
kind-hearted  and  easy  to  talk  to,  that  I  do  not  dislike  it  as 
I  expected.  Then  they  are  charmed  with  me,  because  I 
always  like  what  gives  least  trouble.  On  Tuesday  Aunt 


318  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

I 

Marianne  took  me  on  horseback  to  Longleat,  a  magnificent 
house  and  beautiful  park.  Yesterday  we  went  in  their 
carriage  to  Frome,  where,  being  a  manufactory  of  cloth,  I 
wished  to  buy  a  winter  coat;  they  directly  insisted  on 
giving  me  one  of  the  best  cloth.  In  the  evening  they  had  a 
party,  and  in  order  to  induce  two  of  the  guests  who  sang  well 
to  join,  I  sate  down  to  the  instrument,  and  was  so  nervous 
I  made  shocking  work ;  however,  they  were  quite  satisfied 
with  my  readiness. 

"Alton,  Nov.  12. — You  may  guess  how  glad  we  were  to 
find  ourselves  back  in  our  own  little  home,  which  looked 
very  comfortable.  Every  day  something  new  arises  wanting 
repair  or  reform,  and  if  we  can  weather  the  storm  of  all  the 
bills  to  be  paid,  we  shall  do  wonders.  I  suppose  we  shall 
manage  it ;  but  it  is  a  near  calculation  of  comings-in  and 
goings-out.  How  rich  we  shall  seem  to  be  when  we  have 

nothing  but   regular   housekeeping   going  on The 

days  seem  to  fly  so  quick.  The  retirement  of  Stoke  was 
nothing  to  this,  and  the  roads  arc  worse  than  ever.  I 
suppose  we  shall  not  be  fit  company  for  anybody  when  we 
emerge  into  the  world  ;  having  no  new  book,  no  paper  but  a 
country  one,  no  link  with  the  outer  world  but  the  Athenaum, 
which,  they  say,  will  soon  be  given  up,  we  shall  become 
quite  rusticated. 

"  November  2 1 . — It  is  always  easier  to  talk  to  a  person 
when  fresh  from  reading  their  letter,  and  so  I  will  begin  my 
letter  just  when  I  have  enjoyed  yours.  Many  little  things 
which  I  meant  to  say  escape  me  when  there  is  an  accumu- 
lation of  things  to  tell,  and  you  will  have  full  as  much  inter- 
est in  what  I  have  to  say  in  the  sameness  of  our  present  life, 
as  when  there  were  events  to  record.  I  suppose  many 
would  find  it  dull ;  to  me  it  certainly  seems  less  so  than  any 
part  of  my  life  ever  has  been,  the  difference  being  that 
instead  of  looking  on  and  enduring  the  present  in  expecta- 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  319 

tion  of  what  is  to  come,  I  regret  every  day  as  it  goes  by ; 
but  then  of  course  all  depends  upon  the  nature  of  one's 
companion.  Now  the  activity  of  mind  which  Augustus  has 
prevents  the  stagnation  which  in  us  for  instance  constant 
living  together  produces,  so  that  there  seems  rather  an 
increasing  stock  for  conversation  than  a  lesser  one,  and  he 
is  just  as  much  excited  and  alive  when  there  is  nothing 
exterior  to  furnish  food  for  remark  as  in  society.  I  believe 
there  is  a  book-club  at  Devizes,  but  we  do  not  at  all  want 
to  have  recourse  to  it,  and  I  certainly  prefer  the  having  no 
such  temptation  to  idle  reading  at  present.  The  reading  a 
little  only  of  what  is  good,  and  that  with  great  attention,  is 
particularly  wholesome  for  me,  whose  habit  has  hitherto 
been  so  much  the  contrary,  and  who  from  indolence  have 
got  into  so  slovenly  a  way  of  understanding  things.  Our 
evening's  reading,  you  will  be  amused  to  hear,  is  sometimes 
Cicero's  Orations,  in  which  I  look  over  as  he  translates,  and 
shall  get  some  idea  of  Latin.  Coleridge's  '  Friend  '  is  our 
general  book,  however,  which  is  hard  to  understand  occa- 
sionally, but  I  like  it  very  much  indeed.  Then,  if  we  are 
not  in  a  mood  for  such  serious  reading,  Landor's  Dialogues 
come  in,  of  which  I  have  not  heard  half  yet.  Then  I  make 
my  objections,  and  he  explains.  There  is  some  affectation 
in  Landor's  style — he  leaves  a  good  deal  to  the  imagination 
to  supply — and  it  requires  some  attention  to  find  out  the 
extreme  nicety  with  which,  in  all  the  little  circumstances,  he 
keeps  to  the  character  of  the  age  and  speaker.  But  his 
words  and  sentences  are  beautiful  sometimes.  When  he 
tells  a  thing,  he  keeps  so  much  to  what  he  says  of  Demos- 
thenes, that  he  never  dwells  upon  that  which  must  occur  to 
the  reader  in  consequence  of  what  has  already  been  said ; 
and  this  gives  great  strength  to  his  language,  which,  with 
the  delicacy  of  his  touches  of  feeling,  I  can  admire  greatly. 
In  the  morning  one  chapter  in  the  New  Testament  with  the 


320  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

Greek  translated  literally,  and  compared,  one  Gospel  with 
another,  with  references  to  commentaries,  takes  up  some 
time,  which,  with  a  walk,  reading  and  talking  over  letters 
lasts  us  generally  till  luncheon,  and  then  there  are  always 
orders  to  be  given  and  workmen  to  be  looked  after.  I 
have  many  schemes  of  improvement  in  the  flower-garden  ; 
and  into  the  kitchen-garden  I  go  with  my  head  full  of  Mawe 
— '  Ought  not  the  sea-kale  to  be  covered  up  ? ' — and  I  feel 
much  ashamed  to  be  obliged  to  ask  the  names  of  spinach, 
and  endive,  and  celery,  and  to  be  told  this  is  not  the  time 
when  such  things  can  be  had.  We  persevere  in  going  up 
the  hill,  a  work  really  not  of  slight  difficulty  in  these  frosty 
days  when  the  ground  is  so  very  slippery,  and  every  step 
covers  one's  shoes  with  a  galosh  of  mortar.  Many  new  air- 
holes for  cold  wind  have  been  found  out  in  the  last  few 
days,  and  I  think,  like  all  small  and  old  houses,  we  shall 
find  our  rectory  very  cold. 

"  We  have  had  several  new  visitors,  and  the  consequential 
manners  of  some  of  them  prepared  us  doubly  to  appreciate 
Colonel  Montagu  Wroughton  and  his  brother  Captain  Mon- 
tagu, who  I  only  hope  were  as  much  pleased  with  us  as  we 
were  with  them. 

"  December  5. — At  this  moment  Augustus  is  writing 
about  God's  works  having  a  middle — a  point  of  perfection  ; 
about  Jesus  Christ  being  the  middle  of  the  world,  the  tree  of 
life  in  the  midst  of  the  garden.  He  always  puts  off  his 
sermon  till  Saturday,  that  it  may  not  take  up  more  than  its 
day ;  whereas,  if  he  began  on  Monday,  it  would  go  on  all 
the  week.  He  began  his  visiting  of  the  sick  a  few  evenings 
ago,  when  he  went  out  after  dinner  to  read  prayers  by  a 
sick  woman.  He  durst  not  tell  me  till  he  came  back, 
knowing  I  should  scold,  as  he  had  only  just  recovered  from 
his  cold;  but  he  pleaded  that  this  would  have  been  no 
reason  against  going  out  on  the  devil's  work,  and  that  he 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  321 

could  not  eat  his  dinner  from  hearing  of  her  illness,  and 
thinking  that  he  had  not  been  to  her." 

In  December  Augustus  Hare  left  his  wife  and  parish  for  a 
short  time  to  visit  his  brother  Julius  at  Cambridge,  the  great 
object  of  his  journey  being  that  he  might  fulfil  his  aunt's 
dying  wish  in  persuading  his  brother  to  break  off  his 
engagement  to  his  cousin,  Anna  Maria  Dashwood,  which 
she  had  strong  reasons  for  disapproving.  These  reasons 
Augustus  affectionately  and  firmly  urged  to  Julius,  and 
though  he  received  his  arguments  with  great  indignation  at 
first,  he  was  eventually  convinced  of  their  justice,  and  the 
engagement  was  ultimately  broken  off,  though  Julius  always 
continued  to  be  the  most  faithful  and  trusted  friend  of  his 
cousin.  How  bitter  a  sacrifice  his  renunciation  of  this 
marriage  was  to  him,  is  told  by  his  letters  written  at  this 
time.  On  that  very  day  he  was  preaching  upon  "  The  Law 
of  Self-Sacrifice,"  before  the  University.  Here  is  the  grand 
concluding  passage  of  the  sermon  : — 

"  We  have  seen  that  through  every  order  of  beings,  in 
things  inanimate  and  things  animate,  in  the  natural  and  in 
the  spiritual  world,  in  earth  and  in  heaven,  the  law  of  self- 
sacrifice  prevails.  Everywhere  the  birth  of  the  spiritual 
requires  the  death  of  the  carnal.  Everywhere  the  husk 
must  drop  away,  in  order  that  the  germ  may  spring  out  of 
it.  Everywhere,  according  to  our  Lord's  declaration,  that 
which  would  save  its  life  loses  it,  and  that  which  loses  its 
life  preserves  it.  And  the  highest  glory  of  the  h;ghest  life 
is  to  be  offered  up  a  living  sacrifice  to  God  for  the  sake  of 
our  brethren.  This  is  the  principle  of  life,  which  circulates 
through  the  universe,  and  whereby  all  things  minister  to 

VOL.  I.  Y 


322  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 


each  other,  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  the  highest  to  the 
lowest.  This  is  the  golden  chain  of  love,  whereby  the 
whole  creation  is  bound  to  the  throne  of  the  Creator." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Alton,  Dec.  14. — Having  just  seen  my  Augustus  into 
a  farmer's  gig  which  is  to  take  him  to  meet  the  coach 
(a  distance  of  four  and  a  half  miles,  which  they  say  will  take 
an  hour  and  a  half,  so  you  may  judge  of  the  kind  of  roads), 
I  must  find  consolation  in  writing  to  you.  He  is  to  be 
away  ten  days,  going  on  from  London  to  Cambridge  to  see 
Julius,  and  to  hear  him  preach  his  Commemoration  Sermon. 
My  heart  is  full  at  parting  with  him,  but  I  shall  find  plenty 
to  do,  and  be  very  comfortable  whilst  he  is  away,  and  am 
very  glad  he  should  go.  It  is  such  a  beautiful  morning  for 
his  drive,  and  will  enable  me  to  chase  away  every  uncom- 
fortable feeling  at  letting  my  tender  bird  out  of  its  cage  by 
the  clear  air  on  Old  Adam. 

"  I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  talk  with  Augustus  about  his 
ideas  on  Inspiration.  His  notion  is  that  in  all  the  mere 
detail  of  facts,  narrative  of  events,  &c.,  there  is  not  a  verbal 
inspiration;  for  instance,  that  it  required  no  help  of  the 
Spirit  to  give  the  names  of  David's  thirty  captains,  nor  does 
it  in  the  least  signify  whether  one  was  left  out  or  miscalled ; 
that  in  everything  that  was  of  the  slightest  importance  to 
the  conveying  the  knowledge  of  God — his  scheme  respect- 
ing men,  precepts,  doctrines — there  the  Spirit  dictated,  and 
as  such  we  must  receive  it ;  but  the  mere  historical  detail 
he  thinks  cannot,  with  all  its  variations  and  inconsistencies, 
be  dwelt  upon  as  every  word  inspired  by  God  without 
incurring  the  difficulties  which  this  over-demand  on  people's 
belief  so  often  creates.  In  the  Gospels,  St.  Matthew  mentions 
two  blind  men,  St.  Mark  one ;  this  proves  they  were  not 
copied  one  from  the  other;  but  if  verbal  accuracy  is  required, 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON. 


323 


as  it  must  be  if  inspired  verbally,  here  would  be  a  difficulty. 
In  the  Christian  revelation  more  especially,  which  is  in  this 
peculiarity  distinguished  from  the  Jewish,  he  thinks  the 
spirit  and  not  the  letter  should  be  attended  to  throughout. 
By  prayer,  by  singleness  of  heart,  he  thinks  that  he  who 
does  the  Will  will  never  fail  to  know  of  the  Doctrine,  and  to 
distinguish  between  what  may  be  rested  on  with  faith  and 
what  may  be  deemed  unimportant,  but  which  being  made 
too  prominent  may  become  a  stumbling-block.  I  have  not 
time  to  enter  further  into  this  argument,  or  into  another  we 
had  yesterday  about  the  heathen  philosophers — how  far  the 
truth  was  revealed  to  them  indirectly  through  communica- 
tion with  the  Jews,  and  how  far  the  expression  '  God  has* 
not  left  Himself  without  a  witness '  may  in  a  spiritual  sense 
refer  to  them — how  their  theories,  without  a  better  founda- 
tion, fell  to  atheism  amongst  the  Romans,  till  religion  rose 
again  with  a  reviving  power  in  Christianity. 

"  In  his  sermon  yesterday  Augustus  told  a  story  about 
fourteen  children  who  were  poisoned  from  eating  herbs  at 
Luneville,  in  consequence  of  a  great  famine,  and  whose 
funerals  he  himself  saw  in  passing  through — and  so  on  to 
the  Bread  of  Life.  He  brought  in  too  my  old  woman  at 
Stoke,  who  learnt  the  prayers  from  hearing  them  at  church. 
The  interest  excited  is  great,  and  probably  all  the  more 
from  the  novelty." 

M.  H.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"Alton,  Dec.  14,  1829. — One  might  suppose  that  nine  or 
ten  hours  at  Alton  would  not  afford  much  food  for  a  letter, 
yet  I  begin  to  feel  already  as  if  I  had  a  great  deal  to  talk 

about.     First,  there  were  the   letters Then,  I  set 

forth  on  my  walk.  I  had  such  a  delightful  ramble  over  the 
Downs  ;  the  sun  shone  so  bright,  and  the  air  was  clear  and 
reviving,  and  I  pushed  on  till  I  turned  a  point  of  the  hill, 


324  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

and  there  sprawling  beneath  me  lay  the  great  White  Horse 
in  all  its  chalky  glory.  I  would  not  go  back  ignominiously 
when  so  far,  so  I  went  on,  and  soon  planted  my  stick  in 
the  White  Horse's  tail !  Far  beneath  in  the  hollow  the 
sheep  were  collected  together,  and  the  shepherd  boy  was 
seated  on  his  knoll  of  grass.  What  a  time  for  meditation  ! 
no  wonder  the  great  poet  of  Israel  was  a  shepherd,  or  rather, 
to  give  the  cause  before  the  effect,  vice  versa.  I  dare  say, 
however,  no  very  sublime  thoughts  are  conceived  on  the 
Wiltshire  Downs,  and  I  should  fear  the  mind  was  as 
inactive  as  the  body  in  the  boy  I  saw  stationed  on  the  hill 
with  that  wide  view  all  below  him.  For  myself,  I  do  enjoy 
greatly  the  rambling  about  on  those  green  hills,  and,  for- 
getting that  the  sun  was  not  always  so  bright,  I  began  to 
wonder  that  we  had  taken  so  little  advantage  of  such  good 
turf  and  free  air.  About  three  o'clock  Mary  came  in  to 

announce  the  arrival  of  the  live  stock  from  Woodhay 

When  I  tell  you  that  I  have  had  a  talk  with  Becky  King 
about  the  Sacrament.  I  believe  I  shall  have  completed  the 
history  of  this,  my  first  day's  solitude,  in  which  I  have  not 
had  one  moment  to  spare,  and  been  as  happy  as  I  can  be 
without  my  own  dearest  husband.  I  feel  so  much  difference 
from  the  time  when  I  was  left  at  Woodhay.  Here  the 
change  from  having  you  to  having  only  my  own  thoughts 
and  books  is  far  less  striking,  and  I  am  never  dull^ 
though,  dearest,  the  arm-chair  looks  very  empty,  and  the 
silence  is  not  so  pleasant  as  the  sound  of  the  voice  one 
loves." 

"Dec.  1 6.  —  Is  it  two  whole  days,  dearest,  since  I 
have  talked  with  you,  and  nearly  three  since  you  went 
away  ?  It  has  not  seemed  very  long,  and  your  Mia  has- 
been  very  happy  in  her  solitude,  and  does  not  feel  half  as 
desolate  here  as  she  used  to  do  in  that  great  house  at 
Woodhay ;  but  then  a  good  honest  Christmas  fire  is  a  much 


TAKING   ROOT   AT   ALTON.  325 

better  companion  than  a  make-believe  summer  one,  with 
winds  and  rain  driving  against  the  windows 

"  I  have  just  had  my  second  talk  with  Becky  King,  who 
told  me  she  used  to  think  the  latter  part  of  the  Catechism 
was  '  the  biggest  of  nonsense,'  but  that  now  she  knew  better 
what  it  meant.  It  seems  your  reading  the  latter  part  of  the 
Communion  Address  encouraged  her  to  come  and  ask 
questions,  and  it  seems  to  have  been  thought  by  some,  as 
Mr.  Crowe  never  read  that  part,  that  it  was  your  putting  in. 
Poor  woman !  she  is  beset  with  fears  and  doubts,  and 
had  she  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Methodists  would  soon 
have  been  in  a  state  of  despondency.  She  said  nothing 
had  ever  given  her  the  comfort  that  reading  her  Bible  had ; 
and  yet  people  ask,  What  good  can  teaching  to  read  do  ? 

"  By  this  time,  I  suppose,  the  object  of  your  mission 
is  come  to  a  point.  Would  1  could  see  you  for  one 
minute  through  a  telescope  as  you  are  talking  with  Julius, 
and  guess  at  the  result.  The  best  I  can  hope  for  is,  that  if 
you  fail,  as  I  fear  you  must  do,  he  may  succeed  in  con- 
vincing you  that  his  judgment  is  not  so  far  wrong  as  you 
have  been  disposed  to  think  it  is.  At  all  events,  I  trust  to 
the  sincere  affection  which  prompts  the  one  to  censure  and 
the  other  to  grieve  over  that  censure,  keeping  your  hearts 
open  to  the  kindly  feeling  which  between  such  brothers 
should  prevail  in  the  midst  of  disagreement.  It  is  singular 
how  it  has  hitherto  struggled  through  all  the  harshness  of 
opposition,  and  always  succeeded  in  keeping  uppermost 
Let  it  still  do  so,  and  all  will  be  well.  God  be  with  you, 
and  bless  you,  my  own  dearest.  Good  night ! " 

A.  w.  H.  to  M.  ll. 

"  Cambridge,  Dec.  16. — Julius  has  delivered  his  Com- 
memoration Sermon  manfully.  It  was  on  Self-sacrifice,  show- 
ing that  throughout  the  universe,  animate  and  inanimate, 


3-6  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

from  God  to  the  lowest  living  created  thing,  every  good 
thing  that  is  done  is  done  by  self-sacrifice  of  some  kind  or 
other.  So  instead  of  commemorating  the  departed,  he 
showed  how  alone  things  worthy  of  commemoration  could 
be  accomplished ;  and  Bacon  by  his  maxims,  and  Newton, 
by  his  life  (both  members  of  Trinity),  furnished  him  with 
examples  most  appropriate  to  the  subject  and  to  the  day. 
The  great  feature  of  the  beginning  was  an  attack  upon  the 
Paley  doctrines,  which  debase  virtue  into  a  refined  selfish- 
ness. But  as  the  sermon  lasted  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  you 
may  conceive  how  impossible  it  is  to  give  the  darling  Mia 
even  the  slightest  sketch  of  it.  After  service,  we  came  back 
to  Julius's  rooms,  to  be  present  at  his  distribution  of  the 
college  prizes  for  the  year;  and  almost  more  than  in  the 
sermon  did  I  delight  in  the  readiness  with  which  he  said 
something  kind  and  gratifying  and  appropriate  to  almost 
every  man  as  he  came  to  him  in  succession." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Dec.  20.  —  I  think  I  told  you  about  Becky  King, 
who  begged  to  talk  to  me  about  the  Sacrament.  She  .said 
she  had  often  wished  but  never  dared  to  come.  She  cer- 
tainly affords  an  instance  of  God's  Spirit  working  in  her. 
She  seems  to  have  met  with  np  one  likely  to  put  such 
thoughts  into  her  head — has  no  cant  or  display,  but  does 
seem  really  to  feel  that  she  is  sinful,  and  that  she  is  un- 
worthy to  come  before  God.  Sometimes  she  says  she  feels 
as  if  she  must  be  cast  away,  and  then  the  words  of  the  Bible 
comfort  her — '  And  if  I  do  but  say  God  help  me,  it  seems 
to  do  me  good,  ma'am.'  She  told  so  simply  how  much  she 
was  taken  up  with  cares  about  this  world,  and  how  to 
struggle  on  with  their  poverty  and  pay  their  debts,  and  that 
she  could  not  help  fretting  about  it,  though  she  knew  it  was- 
so  wrong,  that  I  really  felt  quite  ashamed  that  she  should 


TAKING   ROOT   AT   ALTON.  337 

see  me  sitting  at  my  ease,  with  every  luxury  around  me.  I 
hope  to  be  some  comfort  to  her,  but  it  does  strike  one  as 
something  like  mockery  to  talk  to  such  poor  creatures 
about  being  thankful  for  what  is  given  them,  and  cer- 
tainly they  do  need  the  hopes  of  something  hereafter  to 
look  on  to. 

"  I  am  very  busy  writing  a  sermon  to  be  ready  for 
Augustus's  return.  I  don't  know  whether  it  will  be  of  any 
use  to  him,  but  it  is  partly  done  in  his  style,  which  is  rather 
that  of  plain  talking  than  preaching.  We  have  got  a  large 
cargo  of  flannel  and  blankets  from  Frome  to  cut  up,  and  we 
shall  give  them  the  day  after  Christmas,  which  will  be  a 
good  way  of  knowing  all  the  people. 

"Dec.  22. — Your  account  of  seeing  the  railway  takes 
away  my  breath,  and  puts  my  head  into  a  perfect  whirl. 
What  will  this  all  come  to  ?  Some  great  change  must  take 
place.  I  want,  as  you  say,  my  companion  to  talk  it  all 
over  to.  However,  you  are  quite  right  that  even  great  as 
my  privation  is  of  not  having  him,  there  are  independent 
charms  of  being  alone  which  we  enjoy  more  than  most.  It 
is  such  a  pleasure  having  things  done  that  I  know  will 
please  him  or  make  him  more  comfortable.  For  instance, 
I  have  moved  the  chairs  and  tables,  till  I  have  made  more 
space  for  my  poor  man  to  walk  about.  He  is  so  patient, 
that  he  never  says  a  word  about  it,  but  I  know  he  must 
long  to  expel  half  the  furniture  that  is  in  the  way  of  his  long 
legs  and  walks.  It  is  very  good  for  him,  however,  to  be  a 
little  curtailed.  He  will  lose  the  habit  of  jumping  up  and 
twirling  round,  from  the  impossibility  here  of  doing  it  with- 
out knocking  something  over.  I  have  always  forgotten  to 
copy  for  your  amusement  some  lines  addressed  to  him,  I 
forget  who  by,  but  describing  a  Debating  Society  at  Oxford, 
of  which  he  was  a  member.  Here  are  those  relating  to 
him : — 


328  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 


"  And  first  thyself  that  planned  the  vast  design, 
And  bade  such  powers  of  eloquence  combine — 
Yes  !  sure  'tis  he  !  'tis  Hare  whose  gamut  voice 
Bids  treason  flourish,  Jacobins  rejoice  ; 
Who  tells  in  alt  what  ills  our  State  disgrace, 
And  mumbles  out  corruption's  fall  in  base. 
'Tis  he,  whose  restless  hand,  now  out,  now  in, 
Threats  all  around,  or  strokes  his  beardless  chin  ; 
Each  adverse  speech  he  vows  on  conquest  bent — 
'  To  declamation  without  argument ; ' 
Next  well  composed  antitheses  ensue — 
'  Naught  true  is  novel,  and  naught  novel  true  ;' 
Till,  as  vast  metaphors  distend  his  breast, 
He  winds  his  period  up,  and  chokes  the  rest." 

I  have  been  reading  a  little  of  Schleiermacher.  Thirlwall's 
preface,  with  the  history  of  all  the  different  theories,  is  quite 
bewildering,  and  enough,  I  think,  to  turn  any  one  disbe- 
liever in  the  inspiration.  Schleiermacher,  I  think,  clearly 
has  a  right  feeling  himself,  and  only  wishes  to  account  for 
the  discrepancies  in  the  best  way  he  can,  believing  in  the 
main  points  as  divinely  taught.  But  I  suspect  the  effect  on 
most  would  be  rather  of  creating  doubt  than  of  satisfying  it. 
Still  there  are  many  singular  theories  about  how  this  story 
must  have  originated  in  the  telling  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and 
that  in  the  telling  of  the  shepherds,  &c.,  which  do  not  at  all 
take  away  from  the  higli  origin ;  and  the  supposition  that  it 
was  originally  written  down  in  detached  portions,  occasioned 
by  the  questions  of  the  early  converts,  and  afterwards  col- 
lected together,  does  not  seem  to  me  at  all  to  take  away 
from  its  truth  or  spiritual  inspiration,  and  accounts  for  the 
want  of  connection. 

"  Yesterday  evening  I  was  actually  obliged  to  go  to  bed 
from  the  cold,  having  tried  alternately  whether  the  draught 
from  the  door  or  window  was  the  most  bearable.  One  is 
obliged  to  move  one's  position  sometimes,  so  that  an  undue 


TAKING    ROOT   AT   ALTON.  329 

partiality  of  warmth  may  not  be  shown  to  one  side.  You 
cannot  think  how  beautiful  Alton  looks  in  the  snow.  Yes- 
terday the  sunset  on  the  snow-hills  was  quite  Alpine.  But, 
my  poor  Augustus — I  wonder  how  he  will  ever  get  home  to- 
day through  the  deep  drifts,  and  shall  be  most  glad  to  have 
him  safe  here. 

"Dec.  30. — You  will  not  be  very  glad  of  Augustus's 
return,  as  it  stops  my  pen  so  much.  I  do  not  know  how  it 
happens,  but  when  he  is  at  home  there  seems  no  time  for 
anything.  He  brought  his  aunt's  dog  Brute  home  with  him. 
Can  you  fancy  me  with  a  little  beast  ?  However,  I  shall 
learn  to  talk  to  one  soon  I  think. 

"  We  had  a  great  day  on  Saturday  for  giving  away  to  all 
the  people,  and  so  got  all  their  names  and  histories,  and 
Augustus  scolded  the  mothers  whose  daughters  had  '  misfor- 
iuncs]  and  told  them  how,  in  the  parish  he  came  from,  such 
a  thing  was  unheard  of.  On  Christmas  Day  we  had  only 
two  communicants,  besides  my  woman  and  ourselves.  On 
Sunday  the  Great  Alton  clergyman  did  not  come  on  account 
of  the  snow,  and  Augustus  had  to  do  the  whole  morning 
service  there,  as  well  as  the  evening  here. 

"Jan.  6,  1830. — Julius  came  on  Monday,  bringing  our 
young  half-brother  Gustavus  with  him,  that  he  might  read 
with  Augustus.  A  new  person  coming  upon  one's  solitude 
seems  to  let  in  so  much  new  light.  Then  Julius  is  much 
more  communicative  than  Augustus,  and  more  generally 
conversable.  But  with  all  that  mildness  of  demeanour  and 
character,  I  am  surprised  to  hear  him  so  vehement  on 
politics,  &c.  I  think  he  will  be  obliged  to  end  by  living  in 
Germany,  he  is  so  much  annoyed  by  the  present  system  of 
things  in  this  country — by  the  overpowering  commercial 
spirit  which  fills  everything.  He  must  have  surprised  a 
fellow-traveller  in  the  coach,  who  was  rejoicing  in  the 
present  books  for  children,  by  saying  that  there  was  not  one 


33°  MEMORIALS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

fit  for  them  to  read ;  and  had  he  gone  on  to  express  his 
regret  that  the  poor  had  no  longer  popular  romances  to 
read,  his  companion  would  have  wondered  still  more.  He 
does  not  conceal  his  dislike  of  people  when  he  feels  it,  and  is 
not  near  as  cautious  as  Augustus  is.  I  hope  he  will  preach 
on  Sunday.  By-the-bye,  Augustus  preached  my  sermon  last 
Sunday,  with  a  few  alterations  of  his  own,  which  did  very 
well.  He  says  he  never  saw  the  people  so  attentive.  It  was 
something  like  my  copies  of  your  drawings — having  a  good 
foundation,  but  imperfectly  worked  up,  and  wanting  the 
spirit  and  force  of  an  original. 

"Jan.  29. — Pray  tell  Charlie  that  when  his  uncle  was 
five  or  six  years  old  his  great  play  at  school  was  taking 
Bergen-op-Zoom,  the  scene  of  action  being  Twyford  church- 
yard, and  his  fortifications  composed  of  string  from  one 
tombstone  to  another.  Without  any  knowledge  of  geo- 
graphy, he  picked  out  the  names  he  could  hear  of,  so  that 
Malta  and  Copenhagen  were  side  by  side  sometimes,  and 
all  his  leisure  hours  were  spent  in  arranging  plans  for 
assaults,  and  thinking  over,  as  he  grew  older,  what  he  read 

in  Thucydides,  &c His  trouble  in  teaching  Gustavus  is 

.really  repaid  by  the  delight  Demosthenes  gives  him.  His 
language  and  style  is  as  plain  and  homely  as  that  of 
Cobbett,  and  his  eloquence  produced  entirely  by  the  force 
of  argument.  Of  course  my  studies  have  lain  in  this  line 
lately,  one  thing  brings  up  another  so ;  and  then  I  feel  so 
ignorant  of  all  the  general  principles,  as  if  there  was  so 
much  to  be  known  and  thought  about  that  a  poor  weak 
mind  cannot  embrace  anything,  and  I  wonder  at  the  bigotry 
of  those  who  think  their  own  opinions  infallible. 

"  I  begin  almost  to  dread  seeing  you  again,  the  happiness 
•will  be  so  great.  Julius  has  left  us,  having  been  much 
shocked  the  day  before  by  hearing  of  Niebuhr's  death. 
He  laments  him  no  less  for  the  excellence  of  his  private 


TAKING   ROOT   AT  ALTON'.  331 

character  than  for  his  literary  attainments — says  the  world 
has  a  great  loss  in  the  latter,  for  his  researches  were  so  very 
deep.  Having  a  very  nervous  mind,  it  had  preyed  on 
the  troubles  of  the  times,  and  worn  him  out  quite  in  his 
prime." 

M.  H.  to  A.  W.  H.  (absent  at  Oxford). 

"  Feb.  9. — The  warm  sun  and  mild  air  yesterday  seemed 
to  be  purposely  made  for  your  release  from  prison,  and  left 

me  no  excuse  for  grumbling  over  your  going  away 

As  I  went  my  way  along  the  lane  to-day,  thinking  how 
I  could  do  any  good  in  the  parish,  I  met  one  of  Gideon's 
children.  '  Where  have  you  been  to,  Mary?'  '  To  school 
at  Mrs.  Patrick's,  ma'am.'  So  in  I  stepped  to  Mrs.  Patrick, 
and  found  she  had  begun  to  take  in  a  scholar  or  two.  This 
was  just  what  I  had  before  thought  of,  as  you  may  remem- 
ber, so  I  sat  down  and  we  had  a  good  talk,  the  burden  of 
which  on  her  part  was  that  she  wanted  to  get  a  few  shillings, 
and  that  she  was  able  to  teach  reading,  sewing,  and  writing ; 
and  on  mine  that  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  somebody 
in  the  parish  who  would  teach  the  children,  and  that  I 
would  talk  to  you  about  it  when  you  came  home ;  in  the. 
meantime  she  must  try  to  get  what  scholars  she  could. 
She  certainly  seems  fully  able  to  undertake  the  office ;  the 
house  is  large  enough  for  as  many  as  she  is  likely  to  get 
at  present,  and  till  something  else  turns  up  we  cannot  do 
better  than  support  her.  I  think  when  I  have  announced 
the  birth  of  your  one  hundred  and  first  parishioner  in  the 
cottages,  you  will  know  all  the  parish  news  I  have  heard  in 
the  last  twenty-four  hours." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

" Feb.  ii. — There  are  two  things  in  your  last  letter  I 
thought  of  commenting  on.     One  was  what  you  say  about 


33 2  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

our  imperfect  powers  of  mind.  Certainly  they  do  prove 
the  corruption  and  weakness  of  our  intellectual  nature,  but 
this  I  conceive  to  be  a  distinct  thing  from  the  moral  cor- 
ruption of  which  St.  Paul  speaks,  except  so  far  as  they  act 
and  react  upon  each  other.  With  regard  to  religious  truth 
(I  mean  not  unessential  points,  but  a  Christian  faith),  I 
believe  Augustus  would  say  that  it  is  the  corruption  of 
the  will  that  perverts  the  intellect — some  hidden  undis- 
covered cause  perhaps  ;  but  he  holds  that  there  is  no  person 
perfectly  sincere  and  honest  in  his  search  after  truth,  who 
will  not  sooner  or  later  be  allowed  to  find  it,  and  be  helped 
in  his  inquiry.  But  then  to  be  unprejudiced  and  open  to 
conviction  is  just  the  point  on  which  we  all  fail.  Our 
limited  capacities,  I  think,  would  alone  convince  us  of  there 
being  a  something  far  higher  to  which  we  shall  one  day 
attain,  and  where  all  will  be  made  clear  which  now  seems 
often  so  obscure.  The  striving  of  our  nature  after  some- 
thing better,  and  its  reluctance  to  stand  still,  might  be  a 
proof  that  the  image  of  God  in  our  souls  has  not  wholly 
been  done  away ;  if  it  was,  there  could  be  no  chord  to  be 
struck,  nothing  to  answer  the  call,  to  lay  hold  of  the  means 
held  out — in  darkness  we  must  remain.  I  suspect  that  in 
many  the  extreme  to  which  the  contrary  doctrine  is  pushed 
proceeds  from  a  degree  of  jealousy  lest  sufficient 
stress  should  not  be  laid  upon  Christ's  doing  all  and 
not  part  of  our  salvation ;  and  so  (as  I  think  Whately 
somewhere  observes)  are  doctrines,  not  necessarily  de- 
pendent on  each  other  to  their  extreme  point,  made  to 
hang  together  for  fear  lest  in  loosening  one  both  should 
give  way. 

"  People  ought  to  marry,  that  by  communion  with  another 
mind  they  may  look  at  themselves  with  other  eyes.  Now 
the  thing  which  I  see  more  clearly  than  I  used  to  do  is, 
how  much  the  system  of  indulgence  gives  a  false  view  of 


TAKING   ROOT   AT   ALTON. 


life,  and  tends  to  raise  an  expectation  and  wish  of  self- 
gratification  in  everything,  as  well  as  making  those  occa- 
sions when  that  is  not  possible  appear  in  the  light  of  great 
trials  and  sacrifices.  I  am  much  struck  with  the  effect 
which  a  different  system  has  had  upon  Augustus,  and  how 
much  more  wholesome  to  his  character  the  severity  of  early 
discipline  was,  and  the  constant  giving  up  of  self.  Some 
bad  consequences  result  from  the  fear  produced  —  reserve, 
and  in  a  less  upright  mind  perhaps  deceit  ;  but  I  begin  to 
think  that  in  the  days  when  subjection  to  elders  was  enforced, 
and  when  less  was  done  to  promote  the  amusement  and 
gratification  of  children,  more  was  done  to  form  their 
minds  to  a  right  view  of  themselves  and  others.  It  is  well 
that  something  of  humiliation  at  finding  my  own  notions 
of  duty  lower  than  they  should  be  arises  out  of  mar- 
riage, or  what  would  become  of  me  with  such  excessive 
spoiling? 

"  To-day  I  have  been  on  the  Downs  as  far  as  the  Beacon, 
and  am  quite  stiff  with  the  hard  work  it  was  getting  up  the 
hill  through  the  deep  mortar." 

M.  H.  to  Miss  CLINTON. 

"Feb.  27,  1830.  —  Nothing  can  be  more  convenient  than 
a  parish,  no  house  of  which  is  beyond  a  ten  minutes'  walk. 
Then  the  power  of  knowing  every  individual  in  it,  and  of 
ministering  even  with  our  small  means  to  the  comfort  of 
all,  is  a  very  great  advantage.  But  there  is  scarcely  a 
grown-up  person  who  can  read,  and  I  was  not  aware  before 
how  much  the  want  of  this  simple  knowledge  leads  to  a 
general  dulness  of  intellect,  and  how  greatly  it  adds  to 
the  difficulty  of  giving  anything  of  religious  instruction. 
How  is  the  mother  of  a  family,  who  can  never  or  rarely  get 
to  church,  and  has  no  means  of  learning  anything  at  home, 
to  know  or  care  anything  about  any  world  but  this  ?  I  hope 


334  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

we  may  in  time  be  able  to  do  something  towards  enlighten- 
ing their  minds  a  little,  but  it  is  a  work  of  great  difficulty,  and 
I  long  for  a  missionary  spirit  to  be  able  to  speak  the  truth  and 
the  whole  truth  to  them  with  plainness  and  openness.  The 
first  thing  has  been  of  course  to  begin  with  the  children. 
Those  who  are  not  advanced  beyond  A  B  and  B  A  of 
course  get  on  very  slowly,  but  we  have  now  begun  a  little 
village  school.  The  people  seem  a  good  deal  struck  by 
Augustus's  sermons,  which,  being  extremely  plain,  and  at 
the  same  time  out  of  the  common  way,  with  illustrations 
from  their  own  sphere  of  life,  have  a  greater  effect  than 
many  finer  discourses.  But  how  very  hard  it  is  to  give 
them  the  least  notion  of  religion,  except  as  one  of  forms  and 
outward  acts.  I  am  now  visiting  a  sick  woman,  one  of  the 
most  respectable  in  the  parish,  who  has  attended  church 
better  than  her  neighbours  and  brought  up  her  family  well 
She  is  pleased  to  have  me  read  to  her,  but  beyond  \hejewish 
creed  of  a  God  that  will  reward  and  punish,  and  to  whom 
we  must  pray  for  help  and  protection,  she  seems  to  have  as 
little  sense  of  her  needing  a  mediator,  or  of  all  that  she  owes 
to  Him,  as  any  heathen  might  have ;  and  to  convince  her  that 
the  faults,  for  which  she  takes  God's  pardon  as  a  matter  of 
course,  are  such  as  the  Bible  teaches  us  proceed  from  the 
heart  and  must  be  repented  of,  I  feel  some  trouble  in  making 
her  understand.  Till  I  came  here  I  was  scarcely  aware, 
having  only  seen  parishes  which  had  long  been  civilised 
and  attended  to,  how  much  devolves  upon  the  exertion  and 
attention  of  the  Rectory  in  teaching  the  poor  people ;  and 
the  state  of  simplicity  which  one  might  expect,  as  you  say, 
from  the  distance  from  a  high-road,  having  no  town  near,  and 
no  public-house  in  the  village,  is  far  less  than  might  be 
hoped.  The  system  of  all  the  women  and  girls  acting  as 
field-labourers— //<?//£///;/£•  and  shepherding,  &c. — in  itself 
produces  a  rough  and  savage  state  of  society." 


TAKING    ROOT   AT   ALTON.  335 

M.  H.  to  C.  S.  (after  a  happy  visit  from  the  Stanleys 
at  AJton  and  an  absence  in  London). 

"  Alton,  June  i,  1830. — Here  we  are  again  at  our  own 
quiet  home,  which,  in  the  depth  of  shade  and  exceeding 
freshness  of  foliage,  looks  more  retired  and  more  rural  even 
than  when  you  saw  it.  You  may  fancy  the  pleasure  it  has 
been  to  me  to  receive  from  Mrs.  Reginald  Heber  a  parcel 
of  the  '  Life.'  She  seems  to  me  to  have  done  it  so  judici- 
ously in  making  him  his  own  biographer  by  his  letters  and 
journals,  and  they  bring  him  most  vividly  before  one. 
Wherever  his  mind  comes  forth,  the  sterling  sense  united 
with  the  candour  and  liberality  is  very  remarkable.  I  feel 
one's  loss  of  him  renewed  by  having  him  thus  brought  home 
to  one's  recollection.  To  be  sure,  how  unlike  he  was  to  any 
one  else.  I  cannot  read  the  book  without  tears. 

"  Augustus  has  been  working  hard  at  his  own  hay,  going 
out  every  half-hour  to  see  what  they  were  about,  watching 
the  clouds  with  an  anxiety  worthy  of  any  farmer,  and 
scolding  because  the  cocks  were  not  judiciously  made, 
to  say  nothing  of  moving  half  the  grass  when  mown  into 
the  next  field  to  dry  sooner,  which  answered  completely. 
Mary  has  worked  in  the  hay  all  day,  dressed  me,  brought 
in  dinner,  milked  the  cow,  and  at  seven  o'clock  there 
she  was  in  the  hay  again.  When  I  saw  her  in  the  croft, 
I  laughed  and  said,  'You  have  had  enough  variety  to-day.' 
*  Oh,  yes,'  she  said,  '  I  feel  as  if  I  was  at  home.'  Certainly, 
whether  a  country  gentleman's  daughter  is  the  thing  for  a 
wife  or  not,  a  respectable  farmer's  daughter  is  the  thing  for  a 
servant." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"June  2,  1830. — I  daresay  you  have  followed  us  to-day 
in  our  walks  and  rides,  and  guessed  LJW  many  recollec- 
tions hive  come  across  us  of  the  beginning  of  our  life 


536  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

together,  of  which  this  is  the  first  anniversary.  How 
blessed  this  year  has  been  to  us  both  !  Who  knows  what 
another  may  be.  But  we  are,  thank  God,  in  better  hand? 
than  our  own,  and  our  care  for  the  future  as  for  the 
present  must  all  be  cast  on  Him.  We  were  so  glad  to 
be  able  to  spend  this  day  alone  together,  and  at  our 
own  dear  little  quiet  home,  which  is  so  very  green  and 
fresh ;  the  roses  cluster  in  at  the  windows,  and  it  looks 
so  very  retired  and  comfortable,  that  I  long  for  you  to 
see  it  in  its  summer  dress. 

"Augustus  has  established  a  second  service  on  a  Sun- 
day, which  was  never  before  known ;  and  it  has  been  re- 
ceived thankfully,  as  also  his  attempts  to  teach  these  poor 
ignorant  people  something  about  the  Sacrament,  which 
has  been  entirely  neglected.  He  had  quite  a  little  congre- 
gation last  week  on  those  evenings  in  which,  after  a  prayer 
he  made  for  the  occasion,  he  talked  and  explained  to 
them  for  above  an  hour,  and  they  seemed  greatly  pleased. 
If  we  can  do  something  how  thankful  we  shall  be, 
but  it  must  take  a  long  time  before  any  great  change 
can  be  made ;  and  when  the  novelty  of  having  a  pastor 
•ivho  cares  about  their  souls  is  a  little  gone  by,  we  must 
expect  to  have  many  discouragements  .... 

•'  How  it  unites  the  interests  of  rich  and  poor  when  the  one 
is  enabled  to  contribute  so  essentially  to  the  welfare  of  the 
other,  and  when  they  can  join  together  in  one  great  feeling. 
I  am  sure  they  are  wonderfully  sensible  of,  and  grateful  for, 
one's  taking  an  interest  about  their  spiritual  concerns  as 
much  as  for  their  temporal,  and  it  quite  saddens  one  to 
think  that  such  a  weight  of  responsibility  as  attaches  to  the 
clergy  should  be  so  often  misused  and  slighted.  Pray 
for  us  that  we  may  be  enabled  to  persevere,  that  God 
may  bless  our  weak  attempts  to  lead  others  into  that  service 
of  perfect  freedom,  and  that  He  may  strengthen  our  own 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  337 

faith,  that  whilst  teaching  others  we  also  may  be  advancing 
in  his  love  and  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  that  we  may 
give  all  the  praise  to  Him.  This  last  especially  I  would 
say  must  never  be  out  of  our  minds,  for  our  poor  weak 
nature  is  so  ready  to  take  all  the  glory  to  itself. 

".  .  .  .  I  am  often  tempted  to  wish  there  was  not  another 
religious  book  in  the  world  except  the  Bible,  and  then 
there  would  I  believe  be  far  less  difference  of  opinion  and 
more  simplicity  of  feeling.  Were  Christ  himself  the  model 
of  life  and  his  precepts  the  standard  of  opinion,  many  who 
are  by  the  errors  and  ill  judgment  of  even  his  faithful  fol- 
lowers led  astray,  would  be  filled  more  with  that  spirit  of 
love  and  peace  which  marks  his  character." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  July  8. — The  aunts  are  just  gone — and  oh  !  on 
Monday  next  down  go  the  partition  walls  of  the  drawing- 
room,  and  lo  !  our  beautiful  new  room  twenty-three  feet  in 
length  !  No  sooner  was  the  suggestion  made  of  such  an  im- 
provement being  practicable,  and  the  probable  execution 
talked  of  for  a  future  time,  than  each  sister  looked  at  the 
other — '  I  see  what  you  are  thinking  of,  Marianne,  and  the 
same  thing  struck  me.1  And  then  came  that  it  was  a  great 
pity  to  delay  such  an  increase  of  comfort,  and  that  they 
should  have  real  pleasure  in  giving  it  to  us.  Nothing 
could  be  done  more  kindly  and  handsomely.  It  was  a 
beautiful  day  for  their  arrival,  and  all  looked  to  advantage. 
They  expressed  satisfaction  in  everything,  found  no  faults, 
and  I  did  not  ask  opinions  on  things  I  did  not  intend  to 
follow,  and  did  upon  points  where  I  could.  The  village 
was  well  astonished  by  the  great  ladies  and  their  four 
horses. 

"  We  aic  going  to  Stoke  in  a  fortnight.  ...  I  am  sure  it  is 
necessary  and  wholesome  to  mix  in  the  world  sometimes  to 

VOL.  i.  z 


338  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

prevent  one's  notions  becoming  narrow  and  bigoted,  as  they 
will  do  if  one  never  associates  except  with  those  who  think 
with  one's  self.  But  certainly  the  truest  enjoyment  must 
always  be  in  one's  own  dear  home,  striving  to  help  those 
around  us,  regretting  only  how  weak  and  inefficient  are  the 

human  means  of  benefiting  them I  do  not  know 

if  I  have  ever  told  you  what  my  study  is  now — Greek. 
I  read  a  few  verses  each  day  in  my  Testament,  and 
get  on  pretty  well,  my  master  tells  me,  and  it  is  such  a 
delight  to  me. 

"  Stoke  Rectory,  July  24,  1830. — I  can  hardly  believe  that 
I  am  not  Maria  Leycester  again ;  in  other  respects  Stoke 
is'  Stoke — its  own  green,  beautiful,  summer  dress  on.  The 
flowers  are  even  better  than  usual,  the  Hawkestone  and 
Kenstone  range  looks  strangely  wooded  and  rich,  and  the 
bookroom  is  certainly  grown  half  as  big  again  at  least. 
You  would  have  laughed  to  see  Augustus  immediately 
measuring  length  and  breadth,  looking  directly,  at  the 
cornices,  and  yesterday  our  first  walk  after  breakfast  was  to 
dairy,  larder,  pig-styes,  &c.;  in  short,  I  find  myself  observing 
on  various  things  I  passed  over  so  entirely  when  I  lived  here, 
— considering  whether  the  pasture  was  good  in  the  field,  see- 
ing all  the  weeds  in  the  garden,  &c. 

"  We  had  a  delightful  journey,  and  no  adventures.  Seeing 
the  little  schoolgirls  in  the  lane  first  upset  me.  But  I  behaved 
very  well  on  getting  here — only  felt  my  heart  jump  into  my 
mouth.  My  father  was  at  the  door.  Augustus  was  as 
happy  and  proud  in  bringing  me  back  as  I  was  to  get 
here.  Of  course  we  had  a  great  peal  of  bells  on  our 
arrival,  and  next  day,  which  is  quite  a  new  and  grand 
sound  to  us. 

'•  Stoke,  Sept.  26. — The  terrible  news  of  the  railway  acci- 
dent and  Mr.  Huskisson's  death  quite  occupies  us. 
Augustus  and  I  have  been  making  out  from  the  newspapers 


TAKING    ROOT   AT   ALTON.  339 

how  many  variations  there  are  in  the  accounts  of  the  story, 
as  told  professedly  by  those  who  were  on  the  spot ;  and 
had  he  to  preach  in  the  neighbourhood  at  this  time,  he  says 
he  should  certainly  make  use  of  them  as  an  instance  how- 
absurd  it  would  be  some  years  hence  to  doubt  the  truth  oC 
the  way  in  which  Mr.  Huskisson  was  killed  because  one 
eye-witness  calls  it  the  right,  and  another  the  left  leg  that 
was  injured — because  one  says  he  fell  on  his  face,  knocked 
down  by  the  door,  and  another  that  his  foot  slipped,  &c. ; 
and  how  similar  are  the  doubts  raised  of  the  truth  of  the 
Gospels  by  the  variations  of  the  evangelist  story." 

A.  W.  H.  to  a  CLERICAL  FRIEND. 

"  Sept.,  1830. —  ....  You  may  remember  you  said  to 
me,  as  I  was  getting  into  the  carriage  to  leave  your 
house,  that  you  hoped  I  did  not  think  the  worse  of  you  for 
the  discussions  we  had  had  together.  Now  I  will  not  pay 
your  penetration  so  bad  a  compliment  as  to  suppose  it 
possible  you  should  not  have  perceived  how  greatly  I 
admire  many  things  about  you — your  care  of  the  parish, 
your  love  of  natural  science,  your  activity,  your  unremitting 
endeavours  to  improve  the  condition  of  the  poor  around 
you.  Heartily  do  I  wish  that  I  resembled  and  equalled  you 
in  these  respects.  All  I  deplore  is,  that  with  so  much 
energy  of  character,  and  such  a  love  of  truth,  you  should  be 
content  to  remain,  on  many  points,  halting  between  two 
opinions  ;  and  that  you  should  suffer  your  peace  to  be  dis- 
turbed and  your  days  embittered  by  questions  which,  if  you 
would  only  grapple  with  them  stead  ilv,  would  many  of 
them,  I  am  convinced,  turn  out  to  be  little  more  than 
phantoms.  I  do  not  deny  that  there  may  be  many  diffi- 
culties in  the  narratives  we  have  so  often  discussed  together , 
but,  in  the  eyes  of  a  Christian,  they  kick  the  beam  when 
weighed  against  the  positive  evidence  afforded  us  in  the  life 


34°  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

and  character  of  Jesus.  ...  I  am  disposed  to  say  to  any 
Christian  who  vexes  himself  about  such  questions  as  that  of 
Jonah  and  his  fish,  for  instance,  '  What  matters  it,  whether 
the  story  be  literal  or  allegorical,  so  long  as  we  believe  in 
Jesus  and  his  tomb,  and  know  that  He  rose  from  it  triumph- 
antly?' The  darkest  passages  in  the  Old  Testament  are 
illuminated  by  that  event  with  a  reflected  light,  which  shows 
them  to  be  either  true  or  unimportant. 

"  Apropos  of  light,  a  fancy  occurred  to  me  the  other  day, 
which,  if  you  would  mature  and  execute  it,  would  show,  I 
think,  more  clearly  than  any  words  can  do,  how  small  a 
part  the  difficulties  are  compared  with  the  whole  scheme ; 
and,  at  any  rate,  how  small  is  the  shade  they  cast  on  the 
great  surrounding  objects.  That  they  are  nuisances  in 
themselves  I  can  readily  conceive,  but  then  it  is  simply  as 
being  negations  ;  they  are  but  minus  quantities,  and  can  no 
more  affect  or  obscure  the  glorious  truth,  with  which  they 
are  found  in  juxtaposition,  than  a  thousand  thistles  in  a 
park  can  conceal  or  out-top  the  oak  in  it.  Over  those 
thistles,  be  they  as  high  and  prickly  as  they  may,  the  oak 
will  still  be  seen  conspicuously ;  and  it  will  still  afford  its 
giant  shelter  to  all  who  can  force  their  way  through  the 
briars  and  nettles  up  to  it.  And,  after  all,  the  Bible  abounds 
in  oaks,  and  has  not  half  so  many  thistles  in  it  as  I  have 
cut  down  at  Hurstmonceaux.  My  fancy,  however,  is  this,  to 
draw  a  sort  of  map  of  the  whole.  The  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments might  be  the  two  worlds,  the  different  books  would 
be  so  many  provinces,  the  chief  events  would  be  like  great 
cities,  the  difficulties  would  be  deserts,  marshes,  &c.  In 
short,  not  to  allegorise  too  much,  it  would  be  easy,  I  think, 
i-o  colour  this  plan  or  map  with  various  colours,  from  white 
to  biacK,  marking  the  different  shades  and  gradations  of 
belie!'  as  you  feel  them  to  exist  in  your  own  mind,  from  the 
iiignest  intensity  of  persuasion  and  conviction  to  the 


TAKING   ROOT   AT   ALTON.  341 

shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness — if  it  ever  amount  to  dark- 
ness— of  any  degree  of  doubt  you  may  be  conscious  of. 
Might  not  such  a  synopsis  as  this  have  the  advantage  of 
making  you  fed  more  strongly  than  you  at  present  seem  to 
do  how  small  a  proportion  your  serious  difficulties  bear  to 
the  many  great  points  on  which  your  mind  is  quite  at  rest. 
It  is  painful  to  see  an  anxiety  r.bout  small  matters  hanging 
like  a  clog  about  your  mind,  ever  flapping  against  it  and 
distracting  its  exertions,  and  retarding  its  progress  towards 
perfection.  He  who  is  ever  laying  the  foundation  afresh 
will  never  finish  the  building.  He  who  has  not  the  founda- 
tion laid  sufficiently  by  the  beginning  of  autumn  has  little 
time  to  lose,  if  he  means  to  have  his  house  comfortable  by 
Christmas.  Your  house  is  not  comfortable.  Would  you 
could  bring  yourself  to  devote  your  energies  to  the  making 
it  comfortable,  with  a  determination  of  persevering  till  the 
work  is  done.  A  few  months,  nay,  a  year  or  two,  would 
be  well  employed  in  an  occupation  the  certain  issue  ami 
reward  of  which  are  peace. 

"  I  need  hardly  say  that  this  applies  with  equal  force  to 
your  misgivings  about  some  of  the  Calvinistic  tenets.  In 
my  opinion,  the  Arminian  who  relies  on  Divine  grace,  the 
moderate  Calvinist  who  insists  on  holiness  and  refrains 
from  preaching  retribution,  and  the  man  who  dismisses 
the  controversy  from  his  thoughts  as  too  high  for  his  learn- 
ing and  abilities,  when  brought  within  these  wholesome 
limits,  as  being  partially  unimportant — all  these  men,  I 
conceive,  may  meet  together  in  one  Church,  as  in  a  common 
field,  in  which  each  has  an  equal  right  to  till.  ..." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  Oct.  26,  1830. — You  may  guess  the  joy  with 
which  we  found  ourselves  at  home  again,  and  we  have  had 
such  greetings  from  all  the  people Yesterday  1 


242  MEMORIALS   OF  A    QUIET   LIFE. 

mounted  Jack  again  for  the  first  time,  Augustus  walked  by 
my  side,  and  we  enjoyed  much  going  along  that  beautiful 
terrace  you  remember  on  the  Downs,  and  coming  back 
through  the  pretty  lanes  where  the  bluebells  were.  Nothing 
can  be  more  perfect  than  our  present  life.  The  third 
Sunday  we  were  away,  Mr.  Bleeck  had  service  at  Great 
Alton  church  in  the  morning.  In  the  evening  Mr.  Peck, 
as  usual,  had  service  in  our  church.  When  he  came  out, 
the  clerk  stepped  up  to  him — '  That  was  a  very  good  ser- 
mon, sir,  you  gave  us  ;  to  be  sure,  we  heard  every  word  of 
it  this  morning  from  Mr.  Bleeck  ;  but  we  shall  remember  it 
all  the  better.'  Was  it  not  singular  ? 

"Oct.  27. — We  have  had  nothing  but  doctoring  in  the 
parish.  The  fever  reached  the  house  at  the  end  of  our  lane, 
and  on  Sunday  night  a  little  girl,  one  of  my  best  scholars, 
died  of  it.  Her  father  lay  dangerously  ill  and  another  child 
also.  Having  just  heard  of  how  malignant  a  nature  it  was 
from  the  doctor,  you  may  guess  whether  it  did  not  require  a 
little  faith  to  see  Augustus  go  into  the  infected  house  to 
read  prayers  to  the  sick  man  without  much  anxiety.  How- 
ever, here  was  a  case  of  duty,  and  after  making  him  take 
every  precaution,  I  was  quite  calm  in  his  doing  it,  and  all 
the  things  he  ordered  were  very  necessary  to  prevent  worse 
consequences.  The  man  is  now,  I  hope,  getting  better; 
but  they  have  it  in  another  house  next  to  Gideon's,  and 
yesterday,  as  Augustus  was  passing  in  the  afternoon,  he 
happened  to  speak  to  the  woman,  saw  she  was  crying,  and, 
on  inquiry,  found  that  the  girl  who  was  so  much  better  in 
the  morning,  was,  they  thought,  dy'ing.  He  came  home  for 
some  brandy,  and  ran  back  with  it  in  spite  of  the  rain,  and 
waited  till  the  child  had  taken  some,  and  by  means  of  that 
and  rubbing  mustard  on  the  throat  begun  to  revive;  and 
to-day  she  is  alive  and  certainly  better.  But  it  seems  like  a 
sort  of  miniature  plague,  attacking  people  so  suddenly 


TAKING   ROOT  AT   ALTON.  343 

with  swelling  in  the  limbs,  &c.  Two  more  in  the  same 
house  now  have  it.  There  is  such  a  making  of  broth  and 
gruel.  The  barn  does  very  well  with  the  laundry  stove  in 
it,  and  makes  an  excellent  room  for  school,  and  Augustus 
means  to  lecture  there  one  evening  in  the  week." 


IX. 

JOURNALS— "THE  GREFN  BOOK." 

41  Love,  lift  me  upon  thy  golden  wings 
From  this  base  world  unto  thy  heaven's  hight, 
Where  I  may  see  those  admirable  things, 
Which  there  thou  workest  by  thy  soveraine  might, 
Farre  above  feeble  reach  of  earthly  sight, 
That  I  thereof  a  heavenly  hymne  may  sing 
Unto  the  God  of  love,  high  heaven's  King." 

E.  SPENSER,  1553 — 98. 
M.  PL's  JOURNAL. 

"  ALTON-BARNES,Nw.  22, 1829,  Sunday.— My  thirty- 
first  birthday !  my  firet  married  one  !  God  be  praised 
for  the  happiness  that  attends  it.  Others  have  been  accom- 
panied by  hopes,  and  plans,  and  expectations  for  the  future ; 
this  presents  the  realisation  of  all,  and  more  than  all  I  have 
ever  dared  to  hope.  I  no  longer  look  on  to  what  is  in 
store;  .rather  I  dwell  upon  the  present  enjoyment,  and 
tremble  lest  another  year  should  bring  with  it  any  change. 
My  heart  is  often  full  to  overflowing  when  I  think  of  the 
many  fond  dreams  I  cherished  of  the  days  to  come,  and  feel 
now  how  they  have  all  so  fully  come  to  pass.  It  was  in  our 
own  little  church  I  this  day  knelt  and  prayed,  and  it  was 
my  husband's  voice  to  which  I  listened,  and  with  him  have 
I  this  evening  read  the  Psalms  and  Lessons  to  our  little 
household,  and  so  joined  together  in  the  sacred  services  of 
the  day.  How  long  has  this  been  an  object  of  my  wishes, 


JOURNALS — "THE  GREEN  BOOK."  345 

to  unite  with  the  partner  of  my  heart  and  life  in  such  duties. 
In  his  tender  affection,  and  in  the  perfect  confidence  which 
exists  between  us,  there  is  a  charm  thrown  over  our  daily 
life  which  certainly  equals,  and  I  think  exceeds,  what  I  had 
fancied  would  be  the  case  ;  and  such  is  the  fear  and  trem- 
bling with  which  its  duration  is  thought  of,  that  I  am 
anxious  to  record  something  of  these  happy  days  as  they 
pass,  which  may  hereafter  recall  them  to  the  recollection 
more  vividly  than  memory  unassisted  could  do.  I  can 
breathe  no  prayer  for  the  present,  but  that  a  sense  or 
our  utter  dependence  on  God  may  never  leave  me,  and  that 
He  will  in  his  mercy  strengthen  my  faith  and  resign  me  to 
His  will ;  that  whatsoever  that  will  may  require  from  me,  be 
it  in  suffering  or  be  it  in  joy,  my  comfort  as  well  as  my 
thankfulness  may  rest  solely  on  Him. 

"  I  begin  a  new  life,  with  new  duties,  new  responsibilities, 
and  I  heartily  pray  that  I  may  fulfil  them  in  that  Christian 
spirit  which  may  in  some  measure  atone  for  the  imperfection 
in  their  performance ;  and  that  he  whom  I  so  dearly  love 
may  together  with  me  grow  daily  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth  and  in  the  love  of  God,  may  He  of  his  goodness  grant 
by  the  assistance  of  his  Spirit.  I  feel  myself  sadly  wanting 
in  submission,  often  failing  in  thankfulness,  wayward  in  the 
midst  of  blessings,  ruffled  by  the  merest  trifles  ;  the  pride 
and  self-will  in  my  heart  are  continually  struggling  against 
my  better  feelings,  but  they  will,  I  trust,  not  always  gain 
the  victory,  and  when  no  higher  motives  have  influence,  the 
strength  of  earthly  affection  will  do  much.  Why  do  not  we 
fear  to  grieve  Him,  from  whom  we  receive  all,  as  much  as 
we  do  to  cause  one  painful  feeling  to  our  nearest  earthly 
friend  ?  My  own  Augustus  !  I  must  not  love  you  too  much, 
or  God  in  his  wisdom  will  recall  my  wandering  affections 
to  Heaven,  by  taking  from  me  that  which  makes  Earth — 
Heaven. 


346  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  Nov.  29. — Augustus  read  in  the  morning  service  to-day 
Doddridge's  paraphrase  on  the  ist  of  St.  John,  which  wants 
only  simplifying  in  the  words  to  make  it  intelligible  to  the 
ignorant.  Sunday  is  always  a  day  of  rejoicing  with  me,  and 
I  love  my  dear  Augustus  more  than  usual  when  he  has  been 
exerting  himself  for  the  good  of  his  people. 

"  Dec.  i. — A  letter  with  the  account  of  Mrs.  A 's  death 

affected  me  a  good  deal.  So  young  a  person  taken  away 
in  the  bloom  of  happiness  is  always  an  awful  thing ;  but 
here  her  having  so  long  desired  the  very  event  whidi 
has  closed  her  earthly  course  is  a  striking  lesson,  and  I 
feel  that  I  ought  to  benefit  by  it.  How  wrong  it 
shows  it  to  be  longing  after  that,  the  consequence  of 
which  we  can  so  little  foresee.  To  God  we  must  commit 
ourselves  entirely,  and  not  dare  wish  for  that  which  he 
withholds. 

"  Dec.  2. — With  what  a  characteristic  dispute  about  great- 
ness does  the  iSth  of  Matthew  open.  This  is  the  constant 
struggle  now  as  then,  and  the  simplicity  and  humbleness  of 
a  child  are  as  little  to  be  met  with  in  these  days  of  know- 
ledge and  learning  as  in  those  of  ignorance  and  poverty. 
'By  their  angels  in  Heaven,'  sounds  to  me  very  strongly 
as  if  there  were  appropriate  spirits  to  minister  to  each 
faithful  Christian.  Augustus  has  been  reading  Coleridge 
this  evening.  Nothing  can  be  more  delightful  than  his 
style  when  not  involved  in  obscurity ;  I  certainly  prefer  it 
to  Landor. 

"  Augustus  told  me  a  curious  story  of  Mr.  Pitt  being 
waked  out  of  a  sound  sleep  by  Mr.  Windham  and  others, 
and  told  that  the  mutineers  had  seized  Admiral  Colpoice. 
He  rose  up  in  bed,  asked  for  pen  and  paper,  and  having 
written  '  If  Admiral  C.  is  not  released,  fire  upon  the  ship 
from  the  batteries  till  she  is  destroyed,'  gave  it  to  Mr. 
Windham,  lay  down,  and  was  snoring  before  they  got  out  of 


JOURNALS — "THE  GREEN  BOOK."  347 

the  room.     Lord  Spencer  was  one  of  the  party,  and  told 
Lady  Jones. 

"Dec.  13. — We  have  had  a  long  talk  -about  the 
heathen  philosophers.  Augustus  thinks  it  is  to  the  crumbs 
of  truth  they  picked  up  that  the  verse  '  God  has  not  left 
himself  without  a  witness '  may  be  spiritually  applied — that 
they  might  from  the  Hebrew  poetry  and  prophecies  gain 
some  light.  Coleridge's  opinion  is  that  they  had  themselves 
a  providential,  though  not  a  miraculous,  dispensation  to 
raise  their  intellect  above  the  sensible  world — to  spiritualise 
their  ideas.  How  inefficient  this  was,  is  proved  by  the  fall 
of  their  theories  into  epicurism  amongst  the  Romans.  The 
Stoics  were  austere  moralists,  the  falseness  of  whose  system 
was  soon  detected,  and  consequently  rejected  by  those  who 
liked  to  live  for  pleasure  ;  and,  just  when  the  religion  of  the 
Jews  had  become  corrupt,  and  the  philosophy  of  the 
heathens  sunk  into  Atheism,  Christianity  rose  with  reviving 
force.  At  no  other  time  could  it  have  been  spread  so 
rapidly  or  extensively  as  when  all  countries  in  the  civilised 
world  were  subject  to  one  power,  and  connected  with  one 
another  through  this  medium.  The  Reformation  was  a 
resurrection  of  Christianity,  which  was  repeated  in  England 
after  the  French  Revolution  by  the  Methodists. 

"  Christinas  Day,  1829. — This  blessed  day  is  the  first 
since  we  have  been  so  blessed  by  the  gift  of  each  other. 
How  my  heart  swelled  within  me  on  receiving  the  cup  of 
olessing  from  my  husband's  hands  at  the  altar  of  our  own 
little  church,  where  he  read  with  so  much  feeling  and 
earnestness  those  beautiful  words  of  comfort,  encourage- 
ment, and  prayer.  I  never  felt  them  come  so  much  home 
to  my  feelings ;  and  imperfect  and  cold  as  my  best  attempts 
are  to  realise  to  myself  the  presence  of  Christ,  I  trust  that 
these  will  be  accepted,  and  that  God  will  grant  to  me  a 
daily  increasing  knowledge  of,  and  love  for,  my  blessed 


340  MEMORIALS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

Saviour.  That  we  may  assist  and  help  each  other  in 
the  love  of  spiritual  things,  is  my  earnest  desire  and 
prayer;  and  never  do  I  feel  more  thankful  for  my 
present  happy  life  than  when  we  unite  in  these  feelings 
and  wishes.  It  was  a  thorough  Christmas  Day.  The 
sun  shone  bright  upon  a  Lapland  snow,  and  there  was 
a  wholesome  clearness  in  the  air,  invigorating  to  mind  and 
body. 

"Dec.  31. — We  have  reached  the  end  of  this  happy, 
blessed  year,  1829.  It  has  given  to  each  of  us,  I  believe, 
that  which  is  more  precious  than  any  other  gift  of  God,  and 
not  one  anticipation  of  the  happiness  attending  our  union 
has  been  in  vain.  Seven  months  have  we  now  been  one, 
and  not  one  cloud  has  come  between  us ;  each  day  seems 
only  to  draw  us  more  closely  together,  and  to  unite  our 
thoughts  and  feelings  more  intimately.  Let  this  conviction 
produce  in  our  hearts  true  thankfulness  to  Our  Father  who 
has  given  such  earthly  happiness,  and  make  us  watchful  lest 
it  grow  into  a  too  engrossing  feeling,  excluding  that  higher 
love  to  which  it  should  be  subject. 

"Jan.  i,  1830. — The  new  year  begins  most  brightly 
and  happily,  but  I  scarcely  like  to  look  on  to  its  events ; 
for  when  the  present  is  so  blest,  one  cannot  but  fear  the 
changes  which  may  be  wrought.  But  my  trust  must  not 
fail,  for  God  can  give  us  strength  to  bear.  May  He  lead  us 
daily  and  yearly  nearer  and  nearer  to  himself,  that  our  cold 
hearts  may  glow  with  more  love  of  heavenly  things,  and  be 
weaned  from  dependence  on  anything  earthly.  May  I  per- 
form the  new  duties  which  are  opened  to  me  with  the 
humility  of  a  little  child,  conscious  of  my  own  unworthi- 
ness,  and  seeking  earnestly  for  help  in  all  my  struggles  after 
holiness. 

"Jan.  10. — Julius  is  here,  and  reads  to  us  in  the 
evenings.  He  enjoys  a  story  with  all  the  simplicity  of  a 


JOURNALS — "THE  GREEN  BOOK."  349 

child.  In  church,  his  reading  of  the  lessons  and  prayers 
was  most  solemn  and  devotional,  but  in  the  sermon  his 
tone  rather  wants  variety  and  energy.  Nothing  could  be 
better  and  plainer  than  the  words  of  his  sermon,  and  the 
thoughts  were  beautiful  I  particularly  liked  his  allusion  to 
our  love  of  tracing  things  from  their  beginnings,  &c.,  and 
the  showing  how  knowledge  is  not  the  one  thing  needful — 
how  much  we  need  a  Redeemer,  &c.  I  think,  however,  for 
the  audience  he  spoke  to,  that  little  would  be  understood  of 
the  natural  longing  after  good ;  and  the  classical  allusions 
rather  proceeded  from  the  scholar  than  the  parish-priest.  I 
long  for  him  to  be  thrown  more  into  the  world,  that,  by 
mixing  with  different  classes  of  society,  his  theories  may 
become  less  visionary. 

"  Jan.  1 8.  —It  grieves  me  to  have  to  part  with  Julius  just 
as  we  were  becoming  more  intimate,  but  the  moment  of 
parting  calls  forth  the  real  feeling,  and  his  farewell  speech 
of  how  happy  it  made  him  to  have  a  real  sister  was  a  great 
delight. 

"  Jan.  28. — When  I  come  to  study  any  subject  it  always 
appears  to  branch  off  into  so  many  channels,  and  there 
arise  before  me  so  many  points  on  which  I  am  ignorant, 
that,  instead  of  keeping  steadily  to  one,  my  mind  is  apt  to 
glance  off  to  all  the  various  means  before  me — gleaning, 
perhaps,  a  little  from  each,  but  not  making  any  completely 
my  own.  To  be  sure,  the  more  one  knows  the  more  one 
must  sink  before  one's  self  in  consciousness  of  utter  ignorance, 
and  before  the  overwhelming  force  of  all  the  materials  for 
human  knowledge,  spread  out  in  all  ages,  and  so  little  made 
use  of  as  they  should  be. 

"I  am  interested  in  reading  connectedly  the  Mosaic  history 
— how  constantly  and  immediately  God  presided  over  the 
Israelites — how  entirely  their  laws  were  adapted  to  every 
particular  occasion,  not  general  in  principle — how  strongly 


350  MEMORIALS   OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  necessity  of  atoning  for  sin  is  shown  forth  in  the  sacri- 
ficial ordinances. 

"  Feb.  ii. — If  substance  means  literally  what  is  beneath,  to 
under-stand  a  thing  must  be  to  find  out  that  substance — to 
penetrate  below  the  surface  to  what  lies  under.  If  nobody  pro- 
fessed to  understand  a  thing  who  had  not  thus  stood  under 
it,  and  seen  its  deeper  and  hidden  parts,  how  much  error 
and  confusion  would  be  saved !  How  equally  does  God 
proportion  things,  that  where  outer  trials  are  wanting,  inner 
ones  are  created  by  the  perversity  of  our  own  hearts.  The 
system  of  indulgence  under  which  I  have  always  lived 
makes  anything  less  of  ease  and  comfort  seem  a  hardship 
which  requires  compassion;  and  I  find  that  while  great 
sacrifices,  by  calling  out  a  degree  of  admiration,  are  a  means 
of  fostering  our  self-love,  little  ones  which  often  do  not  cost 
us  less  are  more  salutary,  because  they  pass  unnoticed.  I 
grievously  need  a  more  humble  and  submissive  faith — a 
more  perfect  trust  in  the  Divine  will.  If  this  were,  indeed, 
attained,  all  would  be  peace,  and  it  is  the  weakness  of  our 
faith  which  leads  us  to  murmur,  to  grieve,  or  to  be  anxious. 
I  have  much,  very  much  to  learn.  God  grant  me  grace  to 
learn  of  Christ  to  gain  more  of  the  spirit  of  child-like  meek- 
ness and  more  resignation  to  his  will. 

" June  2,  1830. — This  happy  day  has  come  again,  telling 
how  a  long  year  of  happiness  has  been  granted  to  us.  AVe 
have  lived  over  again  in  memory  every  hour  as  it  passed  of 
that  eventful  day,  and  rejoiced  in  feeling  how  much  nearer 
and  closer  is  the  tie  that  binds  us  than  it  was  even  then ; 
and  I  more  especially  enjoy  the  remembrance  of  that  which 
first  secured  to  us  our  present  comfort  whilst  it  is  undis- 
turbed by  all  the  painful  and  agitating  feelings  of  the  last 
2nd  of  June.  How  can  we  be  grateful  enough  for  so  much 
of  earthly  blessing ;  and  yet  how  often  am  I  half  disposed 
to  murmur,  or  at  least  grieve,  that  others  are  not  added,  of 


JOURNALS — "THE  GREEN  BOOK."  351 

which  I  know  not  if  they  would  contribute  to  my  happiness. 
God  knows  what  is  best,  and  in  His  hands  I  can  mostly  rest 
my  hopes,  though  the  flesh  is  weak,  and  will  sometimes 
presume  to  wish  for  itself.  .  .  . 

Oct.  23,  1830. — I  have  been  many  weeks  away  with  my 
own  family.  How  dearly  I  love  them,  and  yet  I  cannot 
help  feeling  now  how  little  they  are  in  comparison  with  this 
one,  and  how  much  happier  my  life  is  now  in  my  own  home, 
with  its  duties  and  interests,  than  the  less  active  one  I 
formerly  led.  When  I  was  at  Stoke,  I  felt  how  little  I  had 
ever  done  there,  and  how  much  more  I  should  now  like  to 
do.  The  last  year  has  brought  with  it  so  much  more  of 
apparent  responsibility  that  I  am  aware  of  a  much  stronger 
feeling  of  the  necessity  of  exertion  than  I  formerly  had. 
Yet  even  now  how  far  does  it  fall  short  of  all  which  I  ought 
or  even  wish  to  do.  Some  idle  excuse,  some  vain  scruple, 
some  foolish  pretence  rises  up  at  every  turn  to  divert  one 
from  the  right  path  of  making  the  consideration  of  others 
always  supersede  that  of  self.  God  be  praised  that  we  are 
returned  safe  to  our  dear  home,  and  may  He  assist  our 
weak  efforts  and  fill  our  wavering  hearts  with  good  desires, 
that  so  we  may  go  on  increasing  in  knowledge  of  His  Truth, 
showing  it  forth  in  our  own  lives,  and  making  it  known  to 
all  around  us.* 

*  The  Journal  called  "  The  Green  Book  "  was  continued  through 
my  mother's  whole  life.  Extracts  from  it  will  from  this  time  be  occa- 
bionally  inserted  at  the  dales  where  they  occur. 


X 

WILTSHIRE  RIOTS  AND  VILLAGE  DUTIES. 

"  What  an  union  for  two  believers  is  a  Christian  marriage 
— to  have  one  hope,  one  desire,  one  course  of  life,  one  service 
of  God  in  common  the  one  with  the  other !  Both,  like  brother 
and  sister,  undivided  in  heart  and  flesh,  or  rather  really  two  in 
one  flesh,  fall  down  together  on  their  knees,  they  pray  and  fast 
together,  they  teach,  they  exhort,  they  bear  one  another 
mutually  ;  they  are  together  in  the  church  of  God,  and  in  the 
Supper  of  the  Lord ;  they  share  with  one  another  their  griev- 
ances, their  persecutions,  and  their  joys  ;  neither  hides  any- 
thing from  the  other,  neither  avoids  the  other ;  the  sick  are 
visited  by  them  with  pleasure,  and  the  needy  supported ; 
psalms  and  hymns  resound  between  them,  and  they  mutually 
strive  who  shall  best  praise  their  God.  Christ  is  delighted  to 
see  and  hear  things  like  these  ;  He  sends  His  peace  on  such 
as  these  ;  where  two  are,  there  is  He,  and  where  He  is,  evil 
comes  not." — TERTULLIAN. 

A.  W.  H.  to  C.  S. 

24'  I^30> — For  fear  >'ou  should  be  alarmed  by- 
cross-country  accounts  in  the  newspapers,  I  write  a 
few  lines  to  say  we  are  all  safe,  after  one  of  the  most 
painful  days  I  ever  went  through. 

"About  two  o'clock  we  were  summoned  by  two  half- 
drunken  men  who  professed  to  be  sent  on.  They  came  to 
the  door,  and  asked  for  money,  'any  trifle,'  announcing  that 
two  hundred  were  coming  at  their  heels.  After  failing  of 
their  errand,  they  went  down  to  Pile's  house,  opposite  us, 
whither  I  followed  them.  He  was  gone  to  Marlborough, 


WILTSHIRE   RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  353 

and  there  were  none  but  women  in  the  house.  As  the  only 
chance,  I  had  the  church-bell  rung,  but  none  of  the  labourers 
came ;  perhaps  they  were ,  too  far  off,  and  did  not  hear. 
About  ten  minutes  after  the  troop  arrived.  The  machine 
had  been  taken  to  pieces,  but  that  did  not  satisfy  them; 
they  must  break  it.  And  breaking  it  they  were,  when  Pile 
on  horseback  clashed  in  among  them,  and  fired.  They 
would  have  dispersed,  perhaps,  in  a  fright,  but  in  a  place 
where  they  could  close  with  him,  his  gun  went  off  a  second 
time.  They  dragged  him  down,  and  have  nearly  killed 
him.  They  then  burst  into  the  house,  and  broke  everything 
to  pieces,  and  for  some  time  I  expected  they  would  serve 
us  in  the  same  way ;  so  irritated  were  they,  and  so  mad 
with  drink.  Indeed,  they  talked  of  coming  back  to-night, 
and  burning  down  all  his  ricks  and  barns.  But  the  news 
had  reached  Devizes  even  before  I  could  send  a  messenger. 
The  Yeomanry  were  here  by  six,  and  I  have  just  heard  that 
they  have  surprised  several  of  the  rioters  in  the  public-house 
at  Woodborough.  On  the  Marlborough  side  ten  men  were 
taken  to-day ;  and  a  regiment  of  Lancers  were  to  be  there 
by  eight  o'clock  to-night.  So  we  feel  safe  again.  Maria 
behaved  perfectly,  as  she  always  does,  thinking  of  everything 
that  was  wanted,  and  taking  every  kind  and  proper  step 
towards  her  poor  afflicted  neighbours.  I  had  no  idea  the 
English  peasantry  were  such  cowards  as  the  men  to-day  on 
both  sides  proved  themselves.  We  hear  Woodhay  has  been 
ransacked.  The  fires  on  Saturday  and  Sunday  were 
dreadful." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Alton,  Nov.  25. — We  have  had  no  further  alarm  beyond 
the  many  reports,  of  which,  if  we  believed  one  half,  one 
could  not  have  much  rest.  However,  at  Pewsey  there  has 
been  a  meeting.  Col.  Wroughton  says  the  people  are 

VOL.  1.  A  A 


354  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

satisfied,  and  there  will  be  one  at  Devizes  to-day.  Troops 
are  at  Marlborough  and  Devizes.  We  have  our  own  special 
constables,  patrols,  and  fire-engine,  and  I  trust  are  in  a 
better  state  of  preparation  than  we  were.  Poor  Mr.  Pile  is 
not  out  of  danger,  I  fear,  though  I  hope  he  will  do  well.  A 
large  fire-ball  was  found  in  his  field  the  morning  after  the 
attack.  We  hear  of  five  great  fires  over  the  hills  towards 
Calne,  and  at  Salisbury  dreadful  work  is  going  on.  Our 
ringleaders  are  chiefly  taken,  and  we  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  some  of  them  go  past  with  the  cavalry  yesterday 
morning.  All  the  villages  round  us  seem  to  have  contributed 
their  share  of  men ;  and  I  fear  there  are  some  very  bad  ones 
amongst  them.  Our  village  had  not  one,  and  only  two 
were  from  Great  Alton,  but  of  course  they  all  rejoice 
secretly  at  what  is'  to  bring  them  greater  wages.  At  the 
same  time  they  are  frightened  to  death,  and  the  wives  come 
crying  about  their  husbands, — they  are  sure  they  will  get 
their  heads  broken,  £c.  At  all  hours  people  are  coming, — 
farmers  to  consult  about  what  should  be  done,  and  with 
fresh  stories.  In  short,  we  live  in  a  strange,  nervous  state ; 
and  if  we  do  not  make  an  example,  and  that  speedily, 
of  some  of  the  worst,  there  will  be  no  end  to  these  out- 
rages. 

"  On  Tuesday  evening,  when  all  was  over,  and  our  fears 
for  the  night  were  quieted  by  the  arrival  of  the  cavalry, 
Augustus  and  I  sat  each  in  our  arm-chair,  so  completely 
worn  out  by  the  anxiety  and  fatigue  of  the  day,  that  we 
neither  of  us  uttered  a  word  for  a  couple  of  hours.  From 
my  station  at  the  drawing-room  window,  I  saw  the  whole 
combat,  and  you  may  guess  my  horror  when,  hearing  the 
confusion  of  Mr.  Pile's  fall,  I  saw  Augustus  rush  towards 
the  place,  surrounded  by  the  'bull-dogs,' — and  my  sub- 
sequent joy  when  I  saw  him  get  away  and  walk  home. 
They  threatened  vengeance  so  loudly  that  he  kept  out  of 


WILTSHIRE   RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  355 

sight  from  that  time,  and  I  talked  to  the  people  who 
came  to  the  door.  As  soon  as  they  had  filed  off  across 
the  field  to  Mr.  Miller's,  I  went  down  to  Mr.  Pile's, 
and  such  a  state  of  distraction  as  the  house  presented 
I  never  saw.  I  went  again  to  hear  the  doctor's  report. 
The  sisters  were  all  activity,  and  busied  about  their 
brother,  whilst  the  poor  old  mother,  not  allowed  to  go 
into  the  room,  went  moaning  about,  lamenting  first  over 
her  son,  and  then  over  her  china ;  she  herself  got  a  great 
blow  from  one  of  the  iron  crows.  The  greater  part 
of  our  rioters  are  men  who  earn  from  twelve  to  twenty 
shillings  a  week  at  the  Wharf,  and  spend  it  all  at  the  beer- 
shops. 

"Nor.  26. — The  activity  of  the  magistrates  and  yeomanry 
have  struck  a  panic,  which  will,  I  trust,  spare  us  any  further 
alarm.  Yesterday  a  Bow  Street  officer  came  to  get  infor- 
mation. He  came  out  of  Kent,  and  says  his  own  impression 
is  certainly  that  the  fires  proceed  from  the  people  of  the 
country.  He  hoped  to  have  got  a  good  clue  to  one  of  our 
incendiaries.  The  chiefs  of  our  ringleaders  are  in  custody, 
and  Augustus  went  this  morning  with  Mr.  Miller  to  identify 
some  of  the  prisoners.  He  was  doubtful  about  one,  till  the 
man  put  an  end  to  his  hesitation  by  saying,  '  You,  sir,  can 
witness  I  was  not  breaking  the  machine,  for  I  was  talking 
to  you.' 

"  The  worst  of  such  alarms  to  one's  self  individually  is  the 
want  of  security  they  create ;  every  unexpected  noise,  or 
delay,  or  interruption,  makes  one  nervous.  How  anybody 
accustomed  to  wars  would  laugh  at  one's  petty  fears ;  but 
certainly  a  body  of  undisciplined  savages  with  nothing  to 
lose  are  not  pleasant  neighbours.  Our  own  parish  is  un- 
touched by  suspicion,  even  ;  but  it  is  very  uncomfortable 
talking  to  the  people.  It  has,  and  naturally,  too,  raised 
their  own  discontent,  and  one  hears  nothing  but  murmurs, 


MEMORIALS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 


and  very  rarely  an  expression  of  proper  feeling  at  the 
outrages,  though  they  are  all  as  much  terrified  as  if  they 
were  likely  to  be  attacked.  I  hope  a  general  agreement 
will  soon  be  entered  into,  which  will  settle  things.  Our 
tithes  of  course  must  fall  as  the  price  of  labour  rises, 
and  we  can  get  little  this  winter.  Had  a  few  people 
acted  at  first  in  a  spirited  manner,  and  resisted  the  giving 
of  money,  it  would  not  have  reached  such  a  height  ; 
and  Sir  Edward  Poore,  as  a  magistrate,  is  very  much 
blamed  for  having  given  them  such  encouragement.  All 
agree  in  condemning  the  beer-shops  as  one  great  incentive 
to  evil. 

"  I  have  written  so  confusedly  before  that  I  thinic  you 
will  have  no  clear  idea  of  my  share  of  the  day,  so  I  will 
tell  what  I  saw.  On  the  approach  of  the  troop,  as  they 
came  over  the  bridge,  Augustus  said  to  me,  '  Go  home,  and 
keep  in  the  house  ;'  and  so  amid  the  cook's  entreaties 
that  '  Master  would  come  too,'  which  I  knew  was  vain,  we 
betook  ourselves  to  the  house,  locked  and  bolted  doors 
and  windows,  and  had  just  retreated  up-stairs,  when  a 
thundering  knock  came  at  the  front  door.  Finding  my 
plan  of  concealment  would  not  do,  I  presented  myself  at 
the  drawing-room  window,  and  held  a  parley  with  them. 
'  They  wanted  to  do  no  harm.'  *  What  have  you  got  those 
clubs  and  hammers  for,  then?'  I  refused  money  and  went 
away,  but  the  continued  knocking,  and  threats  of  breaking 
doors  and  windows,  soon  made  me  pull  out  some  shillings 
and  throw  to  them,  with  which  they  went  away  content. 
Meanwhile  I  saw  in  the  churchyard  all  the  women  and 
children  collected  :  leaning  over  the  wall  of  Mr.  Pile's  yard 
I  could  distinguish  Augustus  and  one  or  two  others  ;  and  in 
the  farmyard  and  all  round  it  were  the  mob,  with  shouts, 
hammering  the  machines  to  pieces.  I  suppose  this  had 
gone  on  for  twenty  minutes  or  half  an  hour,  when  we  (the 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE    DUTIES.  357 

cook  and  myself,  for  the  other  servants  were  all  gone  nearer 
the  scene  of  action)  heard  a  tremendous  gallop,  and  in  an 
instant  saw  Mr.  Pile  ride  furiously  amongst  the  mob,  who 
gave  way  directly,  and  had  he  kept  his  ground  there,  all 
had  been  well.  There  was  a  confusion,  and  all  I  could 
distinguish  was  that  the  farmyard  was  cleared  ;  a  report  of 
a  gun  came  from  the  ricks  behind  the  bams,  there  was  a 
great  scream  set  up,  loud  shouts,  and  to  my  horror  I  saw 
Augustus  and  those  with  him  rush  into  the  field  amongst 
them.  However,  the  alarm  for  him  was  not  long ;  after  a 
few  minutes  I  distinguished  him  leaving  the  crowd,  and 
making  his  way  to  the  house,  and  never  did  my  legs  carry 
me  more  willingly  than  as  I  flew  down-stairs  to  open  him 
the  door.  When  I  again  got  to  my  station,  the  mob  were 
all  come  round  and  advancing  upon  the  Piles'  house,  and 
the  noise  was  terrible  of  breaking  their  windows  and  doors. 
As  they  had  vowed  vengeance  against  Augustus  for  having 
brought  the  gun  out  of  the  house,  he  kept  out  of  sight, 
whilst  I  sent  away  the  few  who  came  for  money,  and  who 
•were  easily  contented.  After  they  had  completed  their 
destruction  at  Mr.  Pile's,  which  was  not  till  the  poor 
mangled  victim  was  brought  down-stairs  again,  and  had 
given  them  ;£io,  we  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  them  file 
away  across  the  fields  to  Great  Alton.  In  about  half  an 
hour  they  returned  to  break  the  Crowe's  machine  which  we 
had  put  in  the  field,  and  then  we  saw  no  more  of  them ;  but 
as  they  went  off  to  Stanton,  declaring  their  intention  of 
returning  at  night,  it  was  an  amazing  relief  when  Mr. 
G.  and  some  other  men  arrived,  who  said  they  had  just 
left  Devizes,  and  heard  the  troops  ordered  'on  Alton.' 
And  so  ended  our  siege,  which  it  must  be  owned  was  as 
little  resisted  as  ever  enemy  was ;  but  the  best  labourers 
were  all  at  a  distance,  and  those  near,  far  too  much  frightened 
to  give  any  help." 


358  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

JVov.  30. — I  must  copy  for  you  part  of  Julius's  letter 
about  the  riots  : — '  The  gentry,  the  farmers,  the  clergy,  the 
citizens,  the  tradesmen  of  the  towns  must  assemble  and 
form  constitutional  associations  for  preserving  peace  and 
order.     By  active  energy  we  may  still  avoid  the  danger, 
which  if  we  are  supine  will  crush  us.     Most  now  are  weak 
and  yield  to  intimidations,  for  it   requires   an  inordinate 
degree  of  courage  to  resist  a  mob  with  such  fearful  weapons, 
and  so  unscrupulous  in  having  recourse  to  the  most  fiendish 
measures.     Surely,  too,  if  people  are  but  active,  many  a 
poor  harmless   peasant   may  be   saved   from  joining  the 
wicked  hordes,  many  may  be  saved  from  the  snares  they 
have  already  fallen  into.     Surely  the  clergy  still  have  an 
influence  over  their  flocks :  they  should  preach  from  the 
pulpit,  they  should  speak  in  every  cottage  of  the  blessings 
of  peace  and  order,  of  the  intolerable,  inevitable  calamities 
that  must  fall  on  eveiy  class  from  a  system  like  the  present. 
Surely  our  nobility  and  gentry,  in  spite  of  the  pestilential 
watering-places  and  other  temples  of  vanity  and  frivolity 
that  draw  them  away  from  their  estates,  may  still  marshal 
faithful  tenants  and  peasants,  if  they  will  but  appear  among 
them  and  at  the  head  of  them.     Surely  the  charity  which 
the  ladies  of  England  have  bestowed  so  liberally  and  almost 
prodigally,  has  not  altogether  fallen  on  stony  ground,  but 
will   produce  some  good   fruit  even  for  themselves   here. 
The  heart  of  England  I  am  convinced  is  still   sound,  in 
spite  of  all  that  has  been  done  to  poison  it.     But  it  must 
be   appealed  to  strongly  and  honestly.     We  are   trying  at 
Cambridge  to  organize  a  kind  of  body  for  the  protection  of 
the  country  round,  in  the  hope  that  our  example  may  be 
folio  wed,,  though  there  are  many  who  say  there  is  no  need 
of  it  yet.     Good  God,  not  yet !    When  will  the  time  come 
to  shake  off  our  sleep  ?    When  that  sleep  is  cast  off  by  the 
pangs  of  death !     I  was  rejoiced  by  your  ringing  the  church 


WILTSHIRE   RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  359 

bell ;  but,  alas !  the  Dark  Ages  are  past  when  that  sound 
would  have  acted  as  a  summons  to  every  living  being  for 
miles  around.' " 


M.  H.  to  Miss  CLINTON. 

..."  Owing  to  our  predecessor  farming  his  own  glebe, 
we  have  large  farm  buildings,  and  those  so  connected 
with  the  house  by  thatch,  that  had  the  rioters  chosen  to 
fire  the  farthest  stack,  it  would  have  run  like  wild  fire 
through  our  old  timbers.  I  was  so  stunned  by  the  events 
of  the  day,  that  for  some  time  afterwards  I  could  scarcely 
feel,  and  rather  thought  than  could  utter  a  prayer  of  thanks- 
giving. What  should  we  do  in  such  moments  without 
the  consciousness  that  whilst  man  is  against  us,  we  have 
God  with  us,  and  the  privilege  of  going  to  Him,  in  the 
earnestness  of  real  want,  to  implore  His  protection. 
Did  we  but  ask  for  spiritual  gifts  with  half  the  energy 
with  which  in  time  of  need  we  beseech  Him  for  temporal 
aid,  how  surely  should  we  find  within  us  the  growth 
of  Christian  graces,  which  we  so  sluggishly  ask  for  in 
general." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Alton,  Dec.  10. — The  odd  thing  about  the  riots  is,  that 
this  is  not  a  year  of  scarcity.  There  has  been  no  hard 
winter  and  no  uncommon  pressure  of  any  sort  to  raise 
this  outcry.  And  when  one  sees  that  half  of  the  discon- 
tented are  men  who  spend  their  money  at  the  beer-shops, 
and  who  might  get  ample  if  they  chose,  it  rather  hardens 
one  against  sympathy  with  their  distress,  and  inclines  one 
to  think  the  lenity  and  indulgence  granted  in  return  for 
their  proceedings,  not  the  best-judged. 

"  Our  carpenter  alleged  as  a  reason  for  the  riots  here — 


360  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

'  Oh,  they  are  so  ignorant  in  this  county, — there's  a  many 
who  boast  that  they  do  not  know  a  great  A  from  a  turnip* 
and  certainly  in  this  vale  the  march  of  intellect  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  great ;  but  it  is  disheartening  to  see 
how  sm^11  fruit  is  produced  by  exertion,  and  attempts  at 
imprc  .<*flient.  Some  of  the  worst  characters  come  from 
Mr.  Methuen's  parish,  and  he  has  been  working  for  years 
both  week-days  and  Sundays." 

M.  H.'s  JOURNAL  (The  Green  Book). 

"Dec.  n. — We  are  returned  to  a  calm  after  a  period  of 
much  anxiety  and  alarm,  in  which  we  have  been  mercifully 
preserved  from  evil.  In  the  hour  of  need  how  necessary 
and  supporting  it  is  to  lift  oneself  above  earth,  and  implore 
protection  from  above.  I  know  not  how  else  great  trials 
can  be  borne,  and  even  in  smaller  ones,  it  is  through  prayer 
alone  that  the  spirit  can  be  refreshed  and  comforted,  and 
strengthened  to  bear  the  evils  around.  Yet  I  felt  the  weak- 
ness of  my  faith,  and  how  hard  it  was  to  cast  all  one's 
care  on  that  merciful  Father  who  invites  us  to  do  it ; 
some  would  still  cling  to  earth  and  raise  unworthy  doubts 
and  fears,  and  selfish  feelings  are  ever  pulling  strongly 
against  those  heavenly  ones  of  trust  and  confidence,  which 
should  possess  one's  soul.  I  feel  myself  so  unworthy  of  the 
mercies  granted  to  me,  so  unable  to  feel  for  them  that 
gratitude  they  should  inspire,  that  when  I  look  on  myself  I 
can  find  no  comfort.  When  the  moment  of  danger  arrives, 
then  I  feel  the  wavering  of  my  faith  and  how  much  my 
happiness  is  set  on  things  below.  'Whilst  I  cannot  but 
long  for  other  blessings,  I  feel.how  difficult  it  is  to  bear  those 
I  have  with  a  spirit  of  resignation  to  the  Giver.  May 
He  who  knows  my  weakness  have  mercy  on  it, — shew  me 
to  myself  in  every  secret  fault, — and  lead  me  by  gentle 
steps  to  that  fountain  which  alone  cleanseth  from  sin." 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  361 

"Jew.  4,  1831. — How  fearfully  does  the  year  open  to 
this  country.  With  trials  and  condemnations,  and,  though 
with  less  of  disturbance  than  a  month  ago,  with  the  con- 
tinual apprehension  of  such.  A  bad  spirit  seems  to  be 
everywhere  at  work,  and  the  ties  and  bonds  of  society 
to  be  loosening  amongst  all  classes.  An  impatience  of 
restraint  and  disregard  of  authorities  and  government 
is  growing  up,  and  the  ignorant  alike  with  the  informed 
cast  from  them  the  wholesome  ties  which  formerly  re- 
strained them.  Whence  all  this  originates — how  it  is  to 
be  conquered — no  one  seems  philosopher  enough  to  dis- 
cover ;  and  it  is  not  easy  to  trace  back  to  their  causes  the 
effects  which  the  change  of  times  and  circumstances  have 
produced :  in  short,  when  I  begin  to  think  on  it,  all 
seems  confusion  and  difficulty.  That  wiser  heads  may 
through  God's  grace  be  led  to  the  best  mode  of  remedy- 
ing the  evil,  is  all  one  can  pray  for.  When  one  thinks 
of  the  advantages  and  blessings  hitherto  granted  to  this 
country,  and  sees  around  one  so  few  really  feeling  and 
acting  upon  Christian  principles,  so  few  to  whom  the 
Gospel  seems  to  have  been  really  made  known  in  more 
than  its  form,  can  one  wonder  if  God  should  withhold 
His  protection,  or  permit  our  neglect  of  Him  and  setting  up 
of  ourselves  to  meet  with  their  fit  reward  ? 

"  Excess  of  luxury  and  refinement  have  brought  other 
nations  low  before  us,  and  if  our  only  superiority,  the  pos- 
session of  Christianity,  is  made  of  non-effect,  how  can  we 
expect  to  stand  more  than  they  did  ?  Let  each  look  at 
home.  What  do  I  see  there?  Perfect  thankfulness  for 
all  the  mercies  I  receive?  entire  submission  to,  and 
hearty  trust  in  Him  who  gives  them  ?  an  immovable  faith 
and  love  in  God  my  Saviour,  an  increasing  effort  to  do  Him 
service,  to  live  to  His  glory,  to  promote  the  knowledge  of 
Him?  Alas,  no — I  find  none  of  these  things.  And  yet 


362  MEMORIALS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

because  others  think  of  me  better  than  I  deseive,  be- 
cause they 'love  and  cherish  me,  I  would  fain  deceive  myself 
with  flattering  delusions.  Oh,  may  I  pray  for  a  true  know- 
ledge of  myself,  that  I  may  find  out  every  secret  spring  of 
action,  let  it  be  ever  so  mortifying  to  my  own  proud  spirit ; 
and  whilst  I  learn  to  judge  of  others  with  more  mildness, 
and  find  excuses  for  every  deviation  they  may  make,  may  I 
probe  deeper  into  every  fault  of  my  own,  and  listen  not 
to  the  tempting  voice .  of  praise,  remembering  ever  for 
how  much  I  have  to  account,  how  many  advantages, 
few  temptations,  and  great  mercies.  And  oh,  Father 
of  all  mercy,  do  Thou  assist  me  by  Thy  Spirit,  and 
grant  to  me  and  my  beloved  such  a  measure  of  it  as 
may  lead  us  day  by  day  and  year  by  year  nearer  and 
nearer  unto  thee,  that  our  pilgrimage  may  be  continually 
one  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  our  life  here  prepare  and 
fit  us  for  the  eternal  home  when  Thou  wilt  be  to  us  All 
in  All." 

M.  H.  to  Miss  CLINTON. 

"Alton,  Dec.  17,  1830. — I  hope  by  this  time  you  are  as 
free  from  apprehension  as  we  are.  I  was  told  only  two 
days  ago  that  Mr.  Hunt  was  coming  with  some  unknown 
multitudes  to  invade  us,  but,  as  they  have  not  yet  appeared, 
we  may  conclude,  I  think,  that  we  were  thought  unworthy 
of  so  illustrious  a  company.  But  I  suspect  we  are  not  yet 
peaceable  at  heart,  nor  can  be  so  till  all  discussion  is  at  an 
end,  as  to  the  price  of  labour,  &c.  The  farmers  in  their 
first  alarm  promised  more  than  they  can  now  perform — then 
the  labourers  rebel.  Some  of  those  in  the  neighbouring 
villages  threaten  to  punish  those  in  ours  for  submitting  to 
a  lower  rate,  and  our  yeoman-farmer  declares  he  will  not  be 
bullied  into  paying  more  until  all  is  settled  and  the  country 
quiet  again.  What  a  struggle  of  interests  it  is  !  .  .  .  . 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  363 


There  certainly  is  a  general  spirit  of  insubordination  show- 
ing itself  in  all  classes.  How  much  less  is  the  authority  of 
parents  over  children  upheld  than  it  used  to  be,  and  the 
attachment  between  master  and  sen-ant.  Of  this  latter 
bond,  our  wounded  neighbour,  Mr.  Pile,  was  saying  that  in 
his  father's  time  the  single  labourers  all  lived  in  the  house, 
took  their  meals  with  the  family,  and  went  quietly  to  bed  at 
nine  o'clock.  Now  they  will  not  do  it,  but  prefer  being  in- 
dependent and  having  their  time  to  themselves.  Conse- 
quently the  hours  after  labour  are  commonly  spent  by  the 
young  men  in  drinking  or  rambling  about,  and  all  that 
social  tie  is  broken  through  which  used  to  connect  them 

with  their  master's  interest Then    in   dress,  how 

it  has  lessened  in  respectability,  through  the  cheap  and 
flimsy  nature  of  the  materials  introduced  by  modern  im- 
provements. We  were  riding  one  day  lately  and  passed  a 
woman  dressed  so  perfectly  according  to  the  old  style,  with 
her  kerchief  pinned  tightly  over  a  dark  blue  gown  which 
looked  quite  new,  that  Augustus  inquired  where  she  got 
so  good  a  dress.  '  Ah,  sir,  you  cannot  get  such  nowadays 
— it  was  part  of  the  moreen  bed-curtains  that  old  Lady 
Wroughton  gave  me  above  twenty  years  since,  and  it  has 
been  washed  many  a  time,  and  always  keeps  new.'  .  .  . 
I  have  moralised  enough,  and,  to  turn  to  our  proceedings, 
must  tell  you  that  we  had  a  dinner  party  of  eight  yesterday 
— an  event  so  rarely  happening  in  our  little  rectory,  that  it 
was  not  at  all  a  thing  of  course,  that  the  dinner  should 
come  and  go,  and  the  company  take  their  chance  of  being 
pleased  or  not.  I  assure  you  due  consideration  had  to  be 
given  as  to  the  best  mode  of  enabling  one  boy  to  wait  on 
eight  people, — and  also  where  the  six  strange  horses  were 
to  go.  Augustus  brought  out  his  choice  Trinity  ale,  and  I 
regaled  them  with  my  Portugal  plums  and  Alderley  ginger- 
bread and  all  kinds  of  clerical  dainties.  There  were  no 


MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE 


contretemps,  they  seemed  well-pleased,  and  all  went  off 
much  to  the  satisfaction  of  my  anxious  maid  Mary,  who 
thought,  doubtless,  that  our  credit  would  have  been  ruined 
for  ever  had  there  been  any  disaster.  The  party  was 
entirely  clerical,  but  not  one  word  of  theology  was  talked, 
which  was  quite  as  well.  Had  it  been,  one  knows  at  what 
a  low  ebb  it  would  have  been,  and  how  truly  the  Evangelicals 
might  have  said  how  much  more  attention  was  engrossed 
by  the  temporal  than  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  people,  and 
how  little  of  real  interest  or  concern  the  latter  excited.  To 
be  sure,  if  the  early  Christians  could  return  to  earth  and  be 
present  at  some  of  the  Christmas  parties  of  the  present  day, 
they  would  be  puzzled  to  recognise  their  brothers  in  name, 
and  would  not  easily  believe  that  they  both  professed  to 
serve  the  same  Master. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  seen  in  the  paper  the  decision  ot 
Sir  J.  Nicholl  in  favour  of  Lady  Jones'  intestacy.  It  is,  all 
things  considered,  the  only  fair  decision,  and  though  we  are 
losers,  Augustus  rejoices  in  it  as  more  conformable  to  his 
aunt's  wishes  than  the  re-establishment  of  the  first  will 
would  have  been. 

"  We  dined  at  Devizes  the  other  day  to  meet  the  Napiers 
and  T.  Moore.  I  liked  the  poet  much  better  than  I  ex- 
pected   Our  drive  home  was  enlivened  by  the 

post-boy  being  attacked  by  a  man  with  a  pistol,  threatening 
to  shoot  out  his  brains  if  he  did  not  stop, — and  with 
difficulty  ne  contrived  to  flog  his  tired  horses  out  of 
reach." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  Jan.  4,  1831. — Julius  is  here.  He  preached  on 
Sunday  on,  '  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd,  therefore  can  I  lack 
nothing.'  It  was  a  beautiful  New  Year's  sermon — the  latter 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  365 

part  referring  strongly  to  the  present  state  of  things — the 
want  of  security  ;  how  an  Englishman's  house  was  no  longer 
his  castle;  warning  them  against  evil  advisers — agents  of 
Satan,  going  about  in  sheep's  clothing — in  reality  their 
bitterest  enemies ;  that  every  newspaper  is  now  telling  to 
what  end  their  counsels  lead  in  this  world,  and  they  must 
know  what  it  would  be  in  the  next,  £c.  He  ended  by  a 
prayer,  beginning,  'Heavenly  Shepherd.'  He  was  more 
animated,  and  I  think  the  sermon  was  more  of  an  address 
than  last  year.  Still  it  had  his  usual  faults  of  being  too 
much  drawn  out  without  a  point  to  rest  upon,  if  you  know 
what  I  mean — not  leaving  any  very  distinct  impression  as 
to  the  tenour  of  the  whole  argument ;  and  further,  the  scrip- 
tural part  seemed  rather  as  if  added  to,  than  moulded 
together  with,  the  philosophical  deductions.  I  suppose  he 
never  thinks  it  dull  here.  Several  evenings  he  read  out 
pieces  in  Milton's  Reformation,  which  is,  to  be  sure,  a 
different  English  from  the  present,  and  strong  enough.  He 
and  Augustus  had  a  long  argument  on  Sunday  evening  as 
to  how  far  Milton  was  responsible  for  the  savage  expressions 
he  uses  towards  the  bishops  of  his  own  day;  Augustus 
maintaining  that  in  men  of  genius,  that  was  the  mode  of 
temptation  to  evil  passions ;  Julius  asserting  that  he  did  not 
really  feel  it,  and  that  it  was  merely  imaginative  violence 
and  manner  of  expressing  the  principle  of  hatred  towards 

what  was  bad I  have  been  obliged  with  Julius,  &c., 

to  put  in  a  word  for  Evangelicals,  feeling  as  I  do,  that,  how- 
ever bigoted  on  many  points,  and  however  inconsistent 
occasionally,  and  however  presumptuous  and  absurd,  there 
is  amongst  them  more  of  real  influential  piety  and  spiritu- 
ality of  mind  than  amidst  most  of  the  accusers  ;  and  that 
taking  out  a  few  such  exceptions  as  Arnold,  Arthur  Per- 
ceval, £c,  they  are  more  likely  to  do  good  as  clergy  than 
the  opposite  party." 


366  MEMORIALS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 


M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"Sunday  after  Christmas,  1830. — It  should  have  been 
the  blessed  Christmas  night  itself  that  I  wrote  to  my  own 
L.,  but  I  was  otherwise  engaged  last  night,  and  this  evening 
will  serve  as  well  to  share  with  you  the  joy  of  this  season, 
and  say  how  I  have  felt  that  we  were  one  in  the  services 
and  rejoicings  of  the  past  two  days.  A  bright  sunshine  and 
clear  frost  seem  to  belong  to  Christmas,  and  give  outwardly 
the  cheerful  brightness  which  one's  inner  man  is  led  to  feel 
in  dwelling  on  the  glad  tidings  this  day  brought.  It  is  the 
custom  here  for  the  carols  to  be  sung  in  the  night,  and  it  is 
so  delightful  to  be  waked  out  of  sleep  by  the  many  voices 
below  our  window,  proclaiming  Christ  to  be  born  in  Bethle- 
hem. There  is  something  in  the  stillness  being  so  broken, 
Avithout  any  visible  change,  which  thrills  through  one's  very 
heart.  What  joy  and  happiness  those  lose  who  care  nothing 
for  that  Saviour  so  freely  offered,  and  who  would  cling  to 
the  cold  formalities  of  natural  religion,  putting  aside  so 
•entirely  the  merciful  link  connecting  us  with  heaven.  It 
does  seem  to  me  also  a  wonderful  perversion  of  human  un- 
derstanding to  find  in  Scripture  any  ground  for  lowering  the 
nature  of  that  Saviour,  and  making  Him  less  than  God.  I 
have  been  the  more  struck  with  the  inconsistency  lately, 
having  compared  the  different  passages  on  the  subject,  and 
both  directly  and  indirectly  the  evidence  does  appear  so 
unanswerable.  Was  it  not  Erasmus  who  said  he  understood 
the  Bible  till  he  began  to  look  at  commentators  ?  I  think 
I  almost  agree  with  him 

"  You  cannot  think,  in  my  visitings  away  from  home,  how 
fearful  I  often  feel  lest  I  should  be  seeming  to  agree  too  much 
with  one  side  or  the  other ;  but  the  fact  is  that,  when  I  hear 
fresh  instances  of  party  spirit,  of  presumption,  and  of  that 
ugly  thing  called  Cant,  I  cannot  help  agreeing  in  the  con- 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  367 

damnation  of  such  unchristian  conduct,  though  generally 
giving  most  of  the  accounts  the  credit  of  exaggeration ;  and 
then,  on  the  other  side,  when  I  see  how  much  more  of  real 
spiritual  feeling  there  is  amongst  those  who  are  called 
•evangelical,  I  cannot  help  preferring  their  society  and  con- 
versation, although  I  dislike  exceedingly  the  notion  of 
belonging  to  a  sect,  or  of  thinking  all  Christianity  void  that 
is  out  of  it.  In  short,  it  always  ends  in  my  going  to  the 
Book,  where  there  is  not  one  following  of  Paul  or  another 
of  Apollos,  but  Christ  is  all  in  all,  and  where  the  simplicity 
is  so  strikingly  contrasted  with  the  colour  given  by  all 
human  authorities,  and  where  humility  and  charity  are  the 
graces  most  earnestly  inculcated.  My  chief  feeling,  in  hear- 
ing anecdotes  unfavourable,  is  the  longing  that  those  to 
whom  they  relate  could  know  how  much  discredit  they 
bring  on  the  doctrine  they  wish  to  adorn,  by  a  too  formal 
adherence  to  the  letter  without  regarding  its  spirit;  and 
though  it  would  be  worse  than  mean  to  compromise  what 
is  really  essential,  I  do  think  much  harm  is  done,  or  at  least 
many  a  stumbling-block  is  laid,  by  attaching  so  much  im- 
portance as  some  do  to  trifles,  and  by  the  jealous  fear  of 
being  too  liberal.  Excellent  as  are  many  of  the  religious 
books  of  the  present  day,  I  believe  that  were  religious 
teaching  to  be  confined  more  exclusively  to  the  Bible,  it 
would  be  more  wholesome,  and  that  fewer  errors  would  be 
taken  up  ;  and  in  the  same  way  I  think  that,  delightful  as 
the  communication  is  with  those  who  agree  with  you  on 
religious  points,  the  kind  of  religious  conversations  held 
between  people  of  the  same  opinion  has  a  great  tendency 
to  breed  party-spirit  and  nourish  a  degree  of  self-conceit." 

"  March  20. — I  fully  understand  your  feeling  of  preferring 
a  life  which  has  its  crook.  I  do  believe  that  following  only- 
one's  own  pleasure  and  having  no  call  for  exertion  is  not 
only  the  least  wholesome,  but,  taking  it  all  in  all,  the  least 


363  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

happy  way  of  passing  life.  I  am  sure  I  always  find  it  so  ; 
and  that  to  have  sacrificed  one's  own  inclination  in  ever  so 
trifling  a  way,  is  always  repaid  doubly.  I  cannot  tell  you 
with  what  joy  I  look  forward  to  this  spring,  in  the  hope  of 
getting  you  here ;  but  I  would  earnestly  guard  you,  in 
coming  here,  against  expecting  too  much,  either  from  our 
people,  who  have  as  yet  perhaps  made  but  little  progress, 
or  from  us  who  are  at  present  but  beginners  in  the  art  of 
teaching  others,  and  perhaps  in  teaching  ourselves.  O. 
thought  this  the  dullest  and  the  ugliest  place  he  was  ever 
in,  so  you  must  not  fancy  that  you  will  find  a  Paradise  out 
of  doors  of  beauty — such  there  certainly  is  within  of  love. 
But  I  have  no  fears  of  your  not  being  happy  here." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  East  Sheen,  May  27,  1831. — We   came   up   here   on 

Monday On  Wednesday  evening  I  went  up  with 

Mrs.  O.  L.  to  the  Ancient  Music  concert :  we  had  good 
seats  just  before  the  director's  box,  and  were  in  time  to 
see  the  Queen  enter  the  royal  box,  and  hear  the  '  God  save 
King  William'  struck  up.  With  all  the  discussions  and 
feelings  excited  lately,  one  could  not  hear  this  without  look- 
ing forward  and  feeling  the  unsettled  state  of  things  just 
now ;  nor  could  one  look  at  the  Queen  and  help  thinking 
on  how  frail  a  tenure  her  elevation  might  perhaps  rest  some 
time  hence.  There  was  something  very  thrilling — almost 
overpowering — to  me,  in  the  '  God  save  the  King,'  sung  in 
chorus,  all  standing  up ;  and  I  am  now  so  unaccustomed  to 
public  places,  that  even  the  number  of  people,  all  well 
dressed,  had  the  effect  upon  me,  as  on  a  child,  of  novelty. 
I  was  sorry  not  to  be  nearer  the  Queen ;  one  has  a 
curiosity  about  such  people — to  see  how  they  talk  (you 
know  what  I  mean),  whether  they  really  are  amused  and 
interested  by  what  goes  on.  The  selection  was  a  particu- 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS    AND    VILLAGE    DUTIES.  369 

laity  good  one,  and  Pasta  sang  gloriously  '  Ombra  Adorata ' 
and  a  song  of  Paisiello,  and  one  heard  her  so  perfectly. 
The  harmony  and  melody  of  the  Knyvetts  was  delicious  in 
its  way,  and  I  have  seldom  heard  at  a  concert  less  of  the 
tiresome  music  one  generally  has." 

"Alton,  May  30,  1831. — Did  you  think  of  us  on  Satur- 
day, returning  with  Lucy  (Stanley)  to  our  quiet  home  ?  It 
was  a  very  cool  travelling  day,  and  cleared  up  to  a  beautiful 
evening ;  so  that  our  drive  in  our  own  carriage  from  Marl- 
borough  was  delightful,  and  Lucy  was  enchanted  with  all 
the  woody  lanes  we  came  through.  Augustus  was  preparing 
her  all  the  way  for  the  change  she  must  expect  when  she 
got  here.  However,  our  little  peaceful  green  home  was  all 
she  could  wish,  and  I  believe  fully  answered  her  expecta- 
tions. The  three  weeks  we  have  been  away  seem  to  have 
made  such  a  change  in  the  growth  of  summer,  and  the 
•extreme  quiet  strikes  one  much  on  coming  back.  I  believe 
Lucy  was  in  one  of  her  most  delicious  moments,  feeling  the 
completion  of  her  long-raised  hopes." 

"  Alton,  June  2,  1831.— There  could  not  have  been  a 
more  delightful  day  for  the  celebration  of  our  second  anni- 
versary. The  sun  shines  without  a  cloud,  and  everything 
looks  as  joyous  and  happy  as  our  hearts  feel.  It  is  indeed 
a  blessed  thing  to  have  had  two  years  of  such  happiness, 
and  this  is  quite  a  fit  day  to  represent  it.  You  may  suppose 
how  Lucy  has  enjoyed  it.  We  had  the  long  table  and 
benches  brought  out  of  the  barn,  and  put  on  the  grass-plot 
under  the  cherry-tree,  by  the  quince,  and  twenty-five  chil- 
dren came  at  twelve  o'clock  to  a  dinner  of  bacon  and 
potatoes,  and  gooseberry  pies.  The  Piles,  Miss  Miller,  &c., 
came  to  look  on,  and  had  chairs  put  out  to  sit  under  the 
trees.  What  is  so  common  with  you,  being  quite  a  new 
thing  here,  was  much  thought  of.  Augustus  said  a  grace 
before  and  after,  and  the  children  sang  their  hymn,  and 

VOL.  I.  B  B 


370  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

each  had  gingerbread  given,  and  then  away  they  went.  It 
was  really  no  expense,  very  little  trouble,  and  gave  much 
pleasure.  The  boys,  being  out  at  plough  this  afternoon,  are 
to  have  their  supper  at  seven  o'clock ;  and  we,  having  dined 
at  three  o'clock,  are  now  going — Augustus  and  I — to  take  a 
delicious  ride  together,  and  Lucy  to  enjoy  her  solitary 
ramble  on  the  Downs,  with  her  camp-stool  and  Brute. 

" — We  are  all  come  in  now,  well  tired,  but  I  must  finish 
my  letter  to  you.  It  has  been  the  most  exquisite  summer's 
evening,  and  you  may  guess  how  we  have  enjoyed  our  ride. 
How  I  rejoiced  in  our  being  in  the  country  again  in  this  fine 
weather,  for  though  Sheen  is  very  pretty,  it  is  not  above 
half  country. 

"We  have  a  curious  case  in  the  village  just  now,  of  a  poor 
woman,  named  Mary  Browne,  who  was  seized  while  she  was 
peeling  potatoes  with  what  she  calls  the  Dreads,  fancying  an 
evil  spirit  came  over  her,  and  she  has  now  taken  to  her  bed 
for  three  weeks,  constantly  tormented  by  this  spirit,  which, 
she  says,  tells  her  she  shall  never  be  forgiven,  tries  to  hinder 
her  praying,  and  puts  all  sorts  of  bad  thoughts  into  her  head 
whenever  she  tries  to  think  of  God  or  heaven.  She  seems 
perfectly  sane,  but  so  very  miserable,  it  is  quite  sad  to  see 
her.  Then  she  has  taken  a  fancy  that  she  is  thus  tormented 
in  consequence  of  having  taken  the  sacrament,  which  I  had 
persuaded  her  to  do  on  Good  Friday,  and  thought  I  had 
satisfied  her  scruples.  There  is  the  oddest  mixture  about 
her  of  self-justification  and  self-condemnation.  I  used  to 
think  her  so  insensible  when  I  talked  to  her,  and  now  she 
seems  to  feel  only  too  sensitively." 

M.  H.  (JOURNAL). 

"June  2,  1831. — Our  third  wedding-day  !  Two  years  of 
uninterrupted  happiness  have  been  granted  to  us — such 
years  as  perhaps  may  never  again  be  permitted  us  to  enjoy. 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  371 

We  have  grown  in  love  to  each  other,  and  in  comfort  with 
all  around  us.  Have  we  grown  as  much  as  we  ought 
in  love  and  devotion  of  heart  to  our  Heavenly  Master? 
This  is  a  question  I  hardly  like  to  ask,  for  I  fear  the  true 
answer  would  be  a  mortifying,  self-condemning  one.  Some- 
thing of  earnestness  in  the  great  work  appointed  to  us,  has, 
I  would  hope,  been  added  to  us;  a  few  seeds  scattered 
amongst  our  people,  have,  I  trust,  been  the  beginning  of  some 
good,  which,  by  God's  blessing,  may  spring  up  even  from 
the  weakest  instruments.  But  when  I  look  into  myself  I 
find  nothing  there  but  food  for  sorrow  and  mourning,  that^ 
with  such  advantages  of  situation  and  circumstances,  I  have 
made  so  little  progress  in  attaining  a  true  Christian  spirit ; 
that  I  am  so  little  humbled  before  God ;  that  my  faith  is  so 
weak,  my  trust  so  wavering.  Oh,  my  God  and  Saviour,  do 
thou  listen  to  my  earnest  prayer !  Toke  from  me  the  cold- 
ness and  deadness  of  heart  I  so  often  feel  in  spiritual  things. 
Enlighten  me  by  Thy  Word  of  Truth  to  see  and  know  Thy 
will,  and  by  the  Holy  Spirit  assisting  me,  enable  me  to 
struggle  without  ceasing  in  bringing  my  thoughts  and  affec- 
tions into  obedience  to  the  Cross  of  Christ.  Help  me  to 
subdue  every  selfish  and  wayward  feeling,  every  desire  lift- 
ing itself  up  against  Thy  will,  and  make  me  to  feel  what 
immense  causes  I  have  for  thankfulness  to  Thee.  This  day 
united  us  for  ever  upon  earth.  Oh,  may  it  be  the  fore- 
runner only  of  that  more  perfect  union  we  may  hereafter 
enjoy  in  heaven !  Do  Thou,  gracious  Lord,  be  with  my 
husband,  softening  his  heart  more  and  more  into  perfect  love 
for  Thy  service,  strengthening  his  faith,  and  filling  him  with 
that  joyful  communion  and  heavenly  peace  which  Thou  dost 
bestow  on  Thy  true  believers.  We  must  look  forward  to 
times  when  all  may  not  go  on  as  smoothly  as  it  now  does. 
Troubles  and  sorrows  must  come ;  and  I  feel  at  times  a 
painful  dread  lest  there  should  be  found  wanting  a  chasten- 


372  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

ing  hand  to  wean  me  from  a  too  great  love  for  the  things  of 
this  life,  and  from  placing  my  affections  too  entirely  on 
earthly  objects.  I  have  been,  with  one  exception,  perhaps 
too  prosperous,  and  my  life  has  too  little  call  for  self-sacrifice 
to  be  altogether  as  wholesome  as  it  might  be.  I  must 
endeavour  to  supply  the  need  of  outward  teaching  by  a 
more  watchful  self-examination,  a  more  diligent  study  of 
God's  Word,  and  more  earnest  and  unremitting  prayer 
for  help  and  support.  May  God  in  His  mercy  quicken 
my  feeble  wishes,  and  bring  them  into  reality  and  fulfil- 
ment." 

A.  W.  H.  (NOTE-BOOK). 

"  Whitsunday. — Who  has  not  seen  the  sun  on  a  fine 
spring  morning  pouring  his  rays  through  a  transparent  white 
cloud,  filling  all  places  with  the  purity  of  his  presence, 
and  kindling  the  birds  into  joy  and  song  ?  Such,  I  con- 
ceive, would  be  the  constant  effects  of  the  Holy  Spirit  on 
the  soul,  were  there  no  evil  in  the  world.  As  it  is,  the 
moral  sun,  like  the  natural,  though  '  it  always  makes  a  day,1 
is  often  clouded  over.  It  is  only  under  a  combination  ci 
peculiarly  happy  circumstances,  that  the  heart  suffers  this 
sweet  violence  perceptibly,  and  feels  and  enjoys  the  ecstasy 
of  being  borne  along  by  overpowering,  unresisted  influxes 
of  good.  To  most,  I  fear,  this  only  happens  during  the 
spring  of  life :  but  some  hearts  keep  young,  even  at 
eighty." 

L.  A.  S.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  June  3,  1831. — I  have  only  been  letting  a  few 
days  pass  over  the  heads  of  my  ideas  here,  before  I  began 
to  write.  Everything  is  exactly  like  my  expectation,  except 
that  I  had  imagined  too  large  a  scale,  and  that  I  had 


WILTSHIRE   RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE    DUTIES.  373 

no  idea  Jww  great  a  difference  there  was  between  Augustus 
known,  and  Augustus  unknown, — for  I  never  knew  him 
before  in  the  least.  The  second  day  after  I  came  I  thought 
a  little  child  would  look  very  dear  on  the  little  lawn,  but  I 
hardly  think  it  is  necessary  to  their  perfect  happiness, — it  is 
so  entire.  For  myself,  I  can  only  say  the  guest  without  a 
husband  is  as  happy  as  the  hostess  with ;  and,  when  I  was 
walking  over  the  White  Horse's  Tail  yesterday  evening,  I 
felt  the  very  feeling  of  Wordsworth's  Solitary  in  the  '  Excur- 
sion,' when — '  No  prayer  he  breathed — he  proffered  no 
request.'  The  only  alteration  I  wish,  is  to  cut  down  half 
the  trees,  but  Augustus  does  not  at  all  agree.  It  is  so 
amusing  to  see  the  interest  the  grave  scholar  takes  in  his 
cow,  and  horse,  and  meadow.  He  came  in  yesterday  and 
said  he  meant  to  water  the  grass  in  the  orchard,  and  was 
very  angry  one  day  because  Maria  and  I  had  walked  all 
through  the  long  grass,  which  was  to  be  cut  at  five  this  morn- 
ing. He  takes  his  daily  round  through  the  village,  and  re- 
turns with  a  minute  account  to  his  Mia.  You  would  have  en- 
joyed seeing  Maria  yesterday,  busy  preparing  for  her  school- 
children, filling  the  jars  with  flowers,  placing  the  table  under 
the  cherry-tree,  all  the  children  meanwhile  peeping  through 
the  gate  ;  and  then,  when  all  was  ready,  Augustus  exclaim- 
ing, '  Throw  open  the  doors,' — and  putting  each  happy  little 
thing  in  its  place.  The  feast  concluded  with  the  children 
singing  the  Morning  Hymn,  led  by  Maria.  I  did  enjoy  the 
day  thoroughly.  It  is  no  difficult  task  to  rejoice  with  those 
who  rejoice, — and  rejoice  was  written  in  every  look  and 
action  of  the  two  throughout  the  day.  Then  we  dined  at 
three,  and  I  and  my  camp-stool  went  to  explore  the  Downs. 
The  carpet  of  cistus,  and  milkwort  and  thyme  there,  is 
quite  beautiful.  I  delight  in  the  Downs,  but  they  are  very 
fatiguing.  The  only  thing  I  long  for  is  a  running  brook, 
with  forget-me-not.  The  source  of  the  Avon  is  like  the 


374  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

outpourings  of  a  soap-tub.  Likewise  there  is  a  great  scarcity 
of  flowers — except  downy  ones. 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Alton,  June  8,  1831. — I  do  not  think  our  political 
horizon  is  at  all  more  cheering  than  yours.  On  Saturday 
night,  a  great  fire  consumed  four  wheat  ricks,  and  four  barns 
full  of  thrashed  corn,  about  seven  miles  off,  near  Abury, 
because  the  farmer  had  used  a  machine.  On  Monday  we 
called  on  Mrs.  Goodman,  and  found  the  old  lady  in  great 
alarm  ;  one  of  her  sons,  who  is  a  farmer,  having  sent  word 
that  morning  that  one  of  his  servants  had  been  told  by  a 
horseman  riding  by — '  If  your  master  does  not  pull  down 
his  machine,  all  his  ricks  will  be  burnt  by  to-morrow  night.' 
This  sounds  just  like  November  again,  and  Augustus  and  I 
rode  home  with  something  of  the  same  feeling  returned. 
This,  with  the  expectation  and  threat  of  burning  all  the 
corn  as  soon  as  it  is  ripe,  makes  one  look  forward  with 
some  dread  to  the  next  few  months.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  a  most  fearful  spirit  of  insubordination  and  dissatisfac- 
tion is  abroad,  and  if  ministers  do  not  speedily  find  some 
remedy,  I  fear  the  Reform  Bill  will  have  little  effect  in 

quieting  the  disaffected We  read  Burke,  and  find 

him  really  a  prophet,  and  lament  there  is  no  such  wisdom 
now. 

"  One  day  Lucy  attacked  Milton's  '  Paradise  Regained ' 
as  lowering  Christ ;  so  Augustus  brought  it  out  to  see,  and, 
I  think,  allowed  it  to  have  that  tendency.  You  would 
laugh  to  hear  her  say  she  has  only  one  objection  to  Alton, 
— that  she  could  not  be  alone  enough, — meeting  people  in 
every  field ;  and  even  on  the  Downs  on  Sunday  evening  she 
met  some  men  who  entered  into  conversation,  and  told  her 
a  long  history  about  the  parish,  and  '  if  Lady  Hare  thought 
she  would  ever  do  any  good  she  was  mistaken,'  &c. 


WILTSHIRE   RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  375 

Augustus  is  getting  very  fond  of  her,  and  says  it  is  some- 
thing quite  neiv  to  him, — the  books  she  mentions,  and  the 
people,  and  some  of  her  remarks.  She  certainly  lives  more 
in  another  world  than  this; — but  nothing  can  be  more 
charitable  and  lenient  than  her  way  of  speaking  of  people. 
She  is  much  delighted  with  our  hay  being  all  about,  and  the 
\vhole  family  turning  out  to  work.  One  day  a  swarm  of 
bees  settled  in  our  kitchen  chimney.  The  next  day  two 
claimants  came  to  own  them, — that  great  division  existing 
as  to  whether  they  had  flown  here  from  the  north  or  south. 
Augustus  referred  the  matter  to  certain  judges,  who  decided 
against  our  parishioners;  and  I  believe  it  ended  in 
Augustus  paying  both  parties  for  them,  and  the  bees  are 
established  in  our  garden. 

"  The  little  carriage  has  arrived  at  Marlborough  ;  but  now 
is  a  great  difficulty  as  to  who  can  be  trusted  to  drive  it  over 
here  ?  As  our  new  horse  has  not  been  tried,  and  William 
has  never  driven  him,  we  are  afraid  of  sending  him  for  it. 
Gideon  offered  his  services,  but  not  being  used  to  coach- 
manship he  has  been  rejected,  and  in  short,  I  do  not  at 
present  see  how  it  is  ever  to  get  over  the  nine  miles  between 
Marlborough  and  here,  unless  we  call  a  parish  meeting  to 
ascertain  if  any  of  our  flock  can  drive.  Then  when  got 
here,  where  is  it  to  be  housed,  the  barn  being  otherwise 
used?  So  you  see  we  are  put  to  great  inconvenience  by 
our  new  gift." 

A 

M.  II.  (from  her  Parish  Journal). 

"June  n,  1831. — There  had  lately  come  into  the  parish 
a  Baptist  named  Richard  Douse.  I  had  not  held  any  com- 
munication with  him  till  this  evening,  when  in  coming  from 
my  usual  visit  to  Mary  Browne,  I  went  into  his  cottage. 
After  some  little  talk  about  poor  Mary's  unhappy  state  of 
mind,  he  said,  '  Ah,  I  was  once  in  as  bad  a  way  as  she  is. 


376  MEMORIALS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

It  is  now  many  years  since  I  was  turned  to  the  Lord.'  I 
asked  him  what  caused  him  to  think  seriously.  '  Why  it 
was  one  day  when  I  was  working  for  Mr.  Pile's  father ; 
there  were  a  many  of  us,  and  we  were  talking  of  dying.  I 
said  I  was  not  afraid  of  death,  why  should  1  ?  I  had  not 
been  cursing  nor  swearing,  nor  doing  as  many  did.  I 
always  went  to  church,  and  did  nobody  any  harm.  The 
next  day  it  came  over  me  all  at  once.  I  was  not  able  to  go 
out  to  work  for  eight  weeks.  I  thought  I  was  so  vile  a 
sinner,  God  would  not  have  mercy  on  me.  I  could  get  no 
rest,  and  they  were  for  sending  me  to  a  mad-house,  thinking 
I  must  be  mad.  One  day  I  was  out  in  the  field.  I  had 
beat  away  my  wife  and  mother  that  I  might  go  and  pray, 
when  all  of  a  sudden  it  did  seem  to  I  as  if  I  heard  a  voice 
say  in  my  ears,  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from 
all  sin."  and  in  that  minute  it  seemed  just  as  if  two  great 
hefts  of  wheat  were  lifted  off  my  back.'  From  that  time 
Richard  Douse  seems  to  have  been  comforted,  and  said 
what  a  blessed  thing  it  was  ;  that  he  had  seen  others  in 
a  like  way.  A  young  woman  at  Allington  had  sent  for  him 
when  she  was  ill.  He  had  talked  with  her,  she  was  bad 
a  long  time.  Some  time  after  she  died ;  he  was  not  with 
her,  but  he  heard  she  was  triumphant.  Another  case  he 
told  of  a  relation  of  his  own.  When  she  was  dying,  she 
sent  for  him,  and,  hearing  he  could  stay  all  night,  said,  '  Oh, 
let  us  bless  the  Lord  for  it,  then  you'll  be  with  me  and  hear 
the  last  word  ! '  He  answered,  he  hoped  it  would  be  a  com- 
fortable one.  She  replied,  '  I  can  only  give  as  it  is  given.' 
When  her  parents  asked,  why  she  liked  so  much  to  have  her 
uncle  with  her,  '  Oh,  because  we  talk  about  Jesus  Christ ; ' 
and  she  would  not  talk  of  anything  else. 

"  A  woman  coming  in  at  this  time,  we  took  our  leave, 
when  he  followed  us  out  of  the  door,  putting  out  his 
rough  hand  to  shake  mine,  the  tears  standing  in  his  eyes." 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  377 


M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  June  15,  1831. — You  will  be  glad  to  hear  we 
hare  got  our  little  carriage  from  Marlborough.  We  bor- 
rowed one  of  Mr.  Miller's  servants  to  ride  Goodman  Dull  to 
fetch  it,  and  on  Saturday  it  amved.  The  pony  looks 
twice  as  well  in  harness,  and  goes  admirably.  On  Monday 
we  were,  as  you  may  imagine,  all  impatient  to  try  it,  and  set 
out  about  five,  Augustus  driving.  The  very  first  turn,  we 
came  suddenly  on  two  immense  timber  loads,  and  narrow 
indeed  was  the  alternative  of  going  into  the  ditch,  or  being 
fastened  on  a  wheel.  However,  we  did  escape  both  evils 
and  went  merrily  on,  and  nothing  can  do  better.  The 
carriage  runs  so  easily  and  quietly,  and  Dull  scarcely 
merits  so  unflattering  a  name  now,  he  goes  so  perfectly, 
never  starting  or  stumbling,  and  just  fit  for  his  driver. 

"  My  poor  woman  continues  much  the  same,  though  we 
have  doctored  her  body  with  physic,  and  her  head  with 
vinegar  and  water,  and  endeavoured  to  exercise  her  mind 
by  reading  and  talking.  It  is  a  very  singular  case  certainly. 
She  is  a  woman  that  a  year  ago,  in  an  illness,  I  found 
it  impossible  to  make  any  impression  on.  She  was  '  not 
worse  than  her  neighbours,  went  to  church,'  &c.  Now  she 
has  these  tempts  come  over  her,  that  God  will  not  forgive 
her,  and  that  the  Evil  One  will  carry  her  away.  It  makes 
her  in  a  sweat  all  over.  Then  she  prays  and  it  goes  away  ; 
but  her  dread  is,  lest  it  should  get  the  better.  She  is 
comforted  and  very  grateful  for  our  reading  to  her,  and 
says,  if  she  can  get  over  this,  she  thinks  she  shall  be  happier 
than  she  ever  was." 

C.  S.  to  M:  H. 

"  Highlake,  June  23,  1831. — A  beautiful  day  on  Monday 
tempted  me  to  choose  the  open-carriage  on  the  railroad. 


MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 


We  got  there  an  hour  before  the  time  ;  but  not  having  seen 
the  establishment,  I  was  anxious  to  investigate  the  whole 
apparatus  of  engine  and  carriages.  At  ten  we  started. 
Three  open  cars  have  cushions  and  divisions,  and  look 
very  inviting  empty,  but  when  filled  you  are  brought  into 
inevitable  contact  with  much  that  is  disagreeable.  I  was 
especially  so,  for  I  had  an  intolerable  fat  neighbour,  who 
was  up  and  down  every  minute,  till  at  last  some  one  told  a 
story  of  a  man  who  was  killed  last  Friday  by  standing  up 
contrary  to  advice,  in  that  very  carriage,  and  tumbling  back- 
wards over  the  side  ;  after  which  he  was  a  little  quieter. 
The  carriage  held  four-and-twenty.  Two  men  who  sat 
opposite  amused  me  by  their  conversation.  Respectable 
tradesmen  they  looked  ;  one  —  indeed  both  —  sensible 
moderate  men.  Of  Reform,  one  said  he  had  been  a 
Reformer  all  his  life  and  was  so  now  ;  but  should  be  more 
hearty  in  the  cause  if  he  could  be  sure  it  would  stop  ;  but 
when  he  heard  the  triumph  of  the  demagogues  in  the 
success  of  their  perseverance,  he  could  not  but  agree  with 
them  that  they  had  but  to  persevere  again  to  get  what  they 
wanted  more  ;  that  he  knew  many  Reformers  who  were 
beginning  to  look  the  other  side  the  question.  He  was  the 
sort  of  man  that  looked  as  if  he  spoke  the  opinion  of  a 
certain  class.  Nothing  can  be  less  enjoyable,  I  think,  than 
the  mode  of  travelling.  You  see  nothing  before  nor  behind 
but  the  carriages  before  and  behind.  The  noise  is  deaf- 
ening, the  motion  jarring,  and  besides  the  Manchester 
atmosphere  you  carry  with  you,  which  there  is  no  sea- 
breeze,  as  in  a  steamboat,  to  counteract,  particles  of 
cinders  or  iron  dust  get  into  your  eyes  and  blind  you  for 
the  time,  and  make  your  eyes  weak  for  a  day  or  two  after- 
wards ;  however,  in  the  shut  carriages  these  evils  are  avoided. 
Our  train  consisted  of  a  hundred  and  fifty.  It  is  as  well 
managed  apparently  as  it  can  be  ;  but  to  me,  who  detest 


WILTSHIRE    RIOTS   AND   VILLAGE   DUTIES.  379 

all  bustle  of  the  kind,  the  luggage  and  the  omnibus,  and  the 
quantity  of  trunks  that  even  three  little  people  take  to 
convey  their  goods  when  everything  must  have  its  place, 
make  the  convenience  of  one's  own  carriage  rise  sensibly 
before  one.  I  feel  it,  however,  almost  wrong  and  un- 
grateful to  speak  disrespectfully  of  such  a  wonderful  in- 
vention and  arrangement  as  it  is.  The  rapidly  improving 
state  of  the  country  through  which  it  passes  is  curious, 
Chat  Moss  getting  into  cultivation — houses  building,  £c." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Millards  Hill,  July  2,  1831.— We  left  Lucy  to  her 
solitude  on  Tuesday,  and  set  off  hither  at  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  little  carriage — only  Augustus  and  I.  We  trotted 
merrily  on  to  Trowbridge,  it  being  a  cool  day,  and  thought 
v\-e  had  maligned  Dull.  Then  we  waited  an  hour,  had 
dinner,  read  the  newspaper,  and  set  off  again  at  half-past 
five.  The  road  was  so  hilly  all  the  way  to  Frome,  that  we 
^ot  on  very  slowly.  Our  chief  amusement  was  that,  in 
going  up  one  of  the  long  hills,  we  were  overtaken  by  a 
newsman  from  Bath,  who  began  talking  to  Augustus,  saying 
how  many  more  papers  had  been  in  request — at  the  rate  of 
eight  or  nine  a  week  more  than  before  the  Reform  Bill. 
Then  he  talked  of  how  many  miles  he  walked  a  day,  &c. ; 
*  but  I  shall  not  have  to  do  it  much  longer.'  '  Why  ?  how 
so  ?  Have  you  got  some  other  place  ? '  '  No,  sir ;  a  rela- 
tion has  died  in  the  East  Indies,  and  I  and  my  brother  are 
his  heirs,  and  we  never  saw  till  lately  the  advertisement, 
which  had  been  for  three  years  in  the  papers.  We  were 
offered  yesterday  ^4,000  for  our  shares.'  '  But  you  won't 
take  it  ?  '  '  No,  sir  ;  we  know  what  the  amount  is — ninety- 
three  thousand  odd  hundred  pounds.'  He  entered  into  all 
the  details  of  how  the  Will  was  in  Doctors'  Commons,  and 
about  the  interest  and  legacy  duty,  &c.  'Not  that  we 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


should  have  been  up  to  this  if  the  lawyers  had  not  set  us  up 
to  it.'  He  was  the  commonest  pedlar-looking  man. 
Augustus  was  very  near  giving  him  a  shilling,  for  the  sake 
of  saying  that  he  had  done  it  to  a  man  worth  the  half  of 
ninety-three  thousand  pounds." 

C.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Alderky,  July  7,  1831.  —  We  came  back  from  Highlake 
by  the  train,  but  in  the  shut  carriages.  There  was  a  man 
killed  in  our  train,  but  we  knew  nothing  of  it  at  the  time, 
but  that  there  was  an  unexplained  stop  of  a  minute  ;  in  fact 
you  know  just  as  much  of  what  goes  on  in  any  other  part 
of  the  train  as  if  you  were  at  Alton.  There  were  only 
three  places  vacant  when  we  went  three  hours  before  the 
time  to  take  our  places.  It  is  more  like  taking  places  at  a 
theatre  than  anything  else.  You  book  yourselves  for  the 
seats  you  choose,  and,  having  a  number  on  your  ticket,  find 
your  place  accordingly  in  the  train.  Another  remark  I 
made  was,  how  little  idea  you  have  of  the  distance  you  pass 
over,  when  the  objects  are  not  previously  known  to  you. 
No  road  having  ever  been  upon  the  line  of  railroad,  of 
course  there  are  no  landmarks,  and  for  anything  one  sees, 
the  distance  might  be  only  twelve  miles.  It  did  seem 
marvellous,  indeed,  to  find  one's  self  at  Huyton  Church,  six 
miles,  in  eight  minutes,  from  Liverpool." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Stoke,  Sept.  30.  —  I  felt  very  sad  in  parting  with 
you,  dearest  Lucy,  and  in  thinking  that  I  should  return 
without  you  to  our  peaceful  home.  Our  pilgrimages  are  at 
present,  it  is  true,  through  widely  different  paths,  and  yours 
is  often  rugged,  whilst  mine  is  permitted  for  a  time  to  be 
strewn  with  flowers  ;  but  the  final  home  is  the  same  to  both, 
and  perhaps  the  very  thorns  and  briers  which  seem  a  hin- 


WILTSHIRE    UIOTS    AND    VILLAGE    DUTIES.  381 


drance  at  the  time,  may  be  the  best  and  surest  means  of 
arriving  at  the  end  in  safety,  and  further  the  poor  weary 
pilgrim  on  his  journey  far  more  effectually,  than  the  more 
pleasant  attendants  on  the  road  in  flowers  and  smoothness. 
However  this  may  be,  it  is  happily  for  us  arranged  for  our 
good  by  One  who  seeth  not  as  man  seeth,  and  whose 
infinite  wisdom  and  mercy  knows  how  best  to  suit  our 
needs.  May  we  only  use  the  means  placed  in  our  power, 
whether  of  joys  or  sorrows,  so  as  to  advance  nearer  and 
nearer  to  His  eternal  kingdom,  and  then  it  will  matter  little 
whether  these  few  years  be  spent  in  one  way  or  another. 
What  a  blessing  it  is,  dearest,  that  our  re-union  has  proved 
indeed  so  true  a  one,  and  that  we  feel  ourselves  in  the  same 
course,  running  the  same  race ;  we  indeed  are  far  behind, 
yet  I  would  fain  hope  striving  after  the  same  prize;  and 
especially  do  I  rejoice  that  it  is  no  longer  I  alone  who 
share  your  thoughts  and  love  and  prayers,  but  my  own 
dearest  Augustus  also  who  is  united  with  me  in  your  heart. 
This  is  no  trifling  result  of  our  three  months'  happiness,  and 
will  endure  long  after  the  impression  of  it  becomes  less 
strong  than  it  is  at  present." 

"  Stoke,  October  10. — When  I  think  how  I  used  to  com- 
plain of  the  want  of  interest  and  the  dreariness  here,  which 
now  seems  to  me  by  comparison  so  extended  and  beautiful, 
and  think  how  it  never  has  occurred  to  me,  at  our  little 
miniature  of  a  garden  and  house  and  grounds,  to  feel  a 
deficiency,  I  am  fearfully  sensible  what  a  great  weight  of 
happiness  rests  upon  one  person,  and  how  dependent  I  am 
— upon  what  ?  Upon  a  Father  who  loveth  His  children 
better  than  any  earthly  parent,  and  will  never  leave  nor  for- 
sake them.  We  have  had  a  delicious  evening  service.  Julius, 
who  is  staying  here,  read  prayers,  and  Augustus  preached, 
I  having  just  before  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  one  of  my 
favourite  cottagers  say  of  the  last  Sunday's  sermon,  '  I  have 


382  MEMORIALS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

never  had  it  out  of  my  head  since.  I  never  heard  a  minister 
that  satisfied'  me  so  well.  I  hope  I  shall  never  forget  it,  he 
went  so  desperate  deep  ;  antd  told  such  truth,  one  could  not 
but  understand  it.  I  take  it  he  must  be  a  rare  good  liver 
to  preach  like  that' " 


XI. 

SUNSHINE. 

44  Ever)'  one  ought  to  read  in  a  triple  book, — 

—  in  the  book  of  Creatures,  that  he  may  find  God ; 

—  in  the  book  of  Conscience,  that  he  may  know  himself; 

—  in  the  book  of  Scripture,  that  he  may  love  his  neighbour  " 

ALAN  us  PE  INSULIS. 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  £[ECKFIELD  PLACE,  Oct.  15,  1831.— Who  do  you 
think  we  have  here  ? — Lady  Elizabeth  Whitbread. 
She  is  mother  to  Mrs.  Shaw-Lefevre,  wife  of  the  member 
for  Hants  (which  I  never  knew  till  I  came  here,  so  un- 
communicative is  Augustus  about  his  relations),  and  sister, 
as  you  probably  know,  to  Lord  Grey.  I  must  speak  of  her 
first,  for  I  can  only  think  of  her.  She  is  a  magnificent  woman, 
— has  been  very  handsome,  and  is  so  dignified,  with  such 
simplicity  and  strong  sense ;  one  could  see  in  a  moment  it 
was  no  ordinary  character.  When  Augustus  was  reading  a 
letter  of  Lord  Grey's  in  the  paper  to-night,  her  eyes  filled 
with  tears ;  and  when  he  said  anything  in  praise,  her  face 
glowed  with  delight.  Just  now,  one  does  look  with  great 
interest  at  any  person  connected  with  political  life,  and  she 
has  all  the  old  experience  of  it,  and  delights  Augustus  by 
bringing  up  what  she  has  heard  from  Charles  Fox.  Mrs. 
Lefevre  is  very  much  pleased  at  our  coming,  wants  us  to 


384  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

stay  longer,  and  is  all  kindness.  There  is  nobody  but  her 
daughter-in-law,  Mrs.  Shaw-Lefevre,  and  her  children,  who 
live  here.  Mr.  S.  Lefevre  is  absent  at  Winchester  sessions, 
but  returns  to-morrow.  It  is  an  ugly-looking  red  brick 
house,  but  very  excellent  inside,  rooms  on  a  large  scale,  and 
everything  very  handsome  and  well  appointed,  though  a  little 
formal.  There  is  a  charming  large  common  close  by,  with 
copsewood,  and  wild  brambles  and  furze,  looking  both 
cheerful  and  picturesque  ;  and  the  distant  views,  like  Wood- 
hay,  are  soft  and  rich.  Mr.  Blackstone  is  the  vicar,  and 
comes  in  and  out  here  whenever  he  likes.  He  has  been 
here  both  evenings,  and  this  evening  we  have  had  some 
amusing  discussions,  in  which  Lady  Elizabeth  bore  her  share, 
and  that  a  very  delightful  one.  There  is  a  genuineness  and 
truth  about  all  she  says  that  does  one  good  to  hear ;  and 
then  she  does  listen  in  such  a  way  !  and  raises  herself  up  at 
times  in  her  plain  black  dress  with  such  dignity,  when  any 
opposition  to  her  opinion  is  raised.  Augustus  had  attacked 
some  expression  of  Mrs.  Shaw-Lefevre's  at  dinner,  and  she 
said  immediately,  '  Oh,  you  and  mamma  would  agree  about 
language,  she  is  as  fastidious  as  you  are ; '  and  accordingly, 
as  soon  as  we  went  into  the  drawing-room  where  Lady 
Elizabeth  was  (for  she  has  been  very  ill,  and  only  comes  down 
in  an  evening),  they  began  a  discussion  upon  language,  in 
which  she  quoted  Fox's  opinion  that  you  should  always 
talk  with  the  people,  and  she  found  as  much  fault  with 
modern  corruptions  as  Augustus  himseif — said  she  could 
not  understand  half  of  what  was  said  nowadays,  there  was 
so  much  phraseology  in  certain  sets.  Then  they  got  upon 
public  speaking,  and  she  criticised  some  of  the  speeches, 
and  spoke  with  delight  of  her  brother's ;  then  to  preachers, 
when  we  had.  a  very  amusing  discussion  between  her  and 
her  daughter  about  Mr.  Howels.  .  .  .  But  I  must  not  go  on 
in  this  way ;  you  may  imagine  how  entertaining  it  is.  I 


SUNSHINE.  385 


quite  delight  in  this  country,  it  is  so  cheerful  and  airy,  and 
yet  so  well  wooded;  just  the  sort  of  country  to  live  in  for 
enjoyment." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  The  dear  Alton,  Oct.  22,  1831. — A  threatening  shower 
passed  away  before  we  got  into  the  Vale,  and  the  sun  shone 
brightly  as  we  came  over  the  brow ;  and  said  Augustus, 
'  Well,  it  is  not  so  bcazttiless'  There  stood  Miss  Miller  and 
her  cousin  busy  at  work  in  their  garden  ;  there  were  the  little 
school-girls  at  the  usual  corner ;  and  some  little  way  farther, 
there  came  out  of  his  cottage-door,  at  the  sound  of  the  wheels, 
John  Brown  himself,  in  his  blue  cap,  which  he  took  off, 
stroking  clown  his  hair  as  you  may  see  him  doing,  with  his 
honest  welcome.  The  dear  little  peaceful  home !  You  know 
what  my  feeling  is  when  I  come  back  to  it,  and  that  I  have 
scarcely  a  word  ready  to  give  the  servants  who  greet  us,  so 
full  is  my  heart  at  this  moment." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Corinne  Bay,  Peiirhos,  Sept.  28,  1831. — This  has  been 
a  happy  Sunday.  I  could  not  go  to  church,  and  have  spent 
most  of  the  morning  and  afternoon  in  my  rocky  chamber, 
with  the  seagulls  and  kittewakes  for  a  congregation.  No- 
where, I  think,  can  one  enter  more  into  the  beauty  of 
Christ's  discourses  than  by  the  sea,  where  most  of  His  words 
were  spoken.  The  waves,  in  their  stillness  or  motion,  must 
be  the  same  everywhere,  and  the  sound,  on  our  ear  as  we 
read,  was  in  His  when  he  spoke. 

"  At  this  moment,  a  huge  brown  seagull  is  flapping  over 
my  head,  two  white-sailed  sloops  are  lying  in  the  bay, 
and  the  air  is  as  soft  as  June.  The  wind  does  not  touch 
my  paper,  but  there  is  enough  to  give  the  sea  motion, 

VOL.  i.  re 


386  MEMORIALS   OF   A  QUIET   LIFE. 

and  make  the  small  waves  break  over  the  limpet-covered 
rocks." 

"  Oct.  1 6. — I  intend  this  to  find  you  when  you  arrive  at 
the  dear  home.  I  have  fancied  you  saying  every  now  and 
then  to  Augustus,  '  next  Sunday  we  shall  be  in  the  little 
church ;'  and  much  as  you  have  enjoyed  seeing  all  the 
clear  Stoke  and  Alderley  people,  I  know  the  full  heart  of 
grateful  joy,  and  the  thrilling  sensation,  with  which  you  will 
see  Gideon  run  to  open  the  gate,  and  feel,  as  you  drive  in, 
that  you  are  once  more  all  in  all  to  each  other." 

"  Nov.  7. — Now  for  two  happy  hours.  They  all  went  to 
Beaumaris  this  morning,  since  which  I  have  fulfilled  all 
necessary  duties,  and  now  have  established  myself  in  the 
breakfast-room.  The  three  Greek  books  are  ready  open ; 
my  task  for  to-night,  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  verses  of 
Matt.  vi.  When  I  was  eating  my  solitary  dinner  just  now, 
I  thought  of  the  last  I  ate  at  Alton,  with  Brute  by  my  side. 
It  is  blowing  a  heavy  gale,  and  there  are  such  strange  noises 
abroad  ;  the  dogs  are  snuffing  and  listening  as  if  they  heard 
people — growling  low.  Your  letter  came  just  as  I  was  thinking 
of  you  both  in  prayer,  and  spoke  less  of  earth  than  heaven. 
You  place  me  completely  by  your  side.  How  little  I  did 
what  I  ought  to  have  done ;  how  much  I  did  which  I  ought 
not  to  have  done  at  dear  Alton,  and  yet  it  is  very  sweet  to 
me  to  think  that  we  are  perhaps  sometimes  helped  on  our 
way  and  fresh  grace  given,  in  answer  to  the  humble 
prayer  of  some  of  Christ's  little  ones,  who  remember  the 
little  word  of  advice  or  comfort  we  offered,  long  after  our 
own  fleeting  thought  of  it  passed  away.  I  have  been 
refreshing  myself  with  some  of  St.  Augustine's  and  St. 
AnseJm's  meditations,  and  I  always  find  myself  most 
honestly  described  in  the  writings  of  these  old  Fathers, — 
there  is  such  a  deep  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  with 
such  simplicity  and  heavenly-mindedness.  They  spoil  one 


SUNSHINE.  387 


for  modern  authors.     I  find  Julius  very  often  in  these  old 
men's  quaint  sentences." 

Only  a  week  after  their  return  to  Alton,  Augustus  left  for 
London,  to  hear  the  legal  argument  of  the  Winchester 
Appeal,  which  he  had  been  long  occupied  in  drawing  up  on 
the  Founder's  Kin  question. 

M.  H.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"Alton,  Oct.  29,  1831. — When  the  dearest  Augustus  gets 
this,  his  ordeal  will  be  over,  and  the  argument  whether  good 
or  bad  will  have  come,  I  trust,  to  a  conclusion.  Either 
you  will  be  railing  at  the  inefficient  manner  in  which  Jenner 
served  your  cause,  or  at  the  long-winded  prosiness  of  your 
opponents  ;  you  will  have  longed  to  get  up  and  defend  your 
own  position,  or  you  will  scarcely  feel  a  triumph  from  the 
weakness  of  your  adversary.  I  hardly  dare  venture  to  hope 
that  this  will  find  you  satisfied  with  the  able  way  in  which 
the  question  has  been  argued,  and  content  to  rest  its 
decision  on  the  impression  that  argument  has  left.  You 
know  how  much  your  own  darling  Mia  will  think  of  you 
and  wish  for  your  success  on  Monday  ;  and  if  you  are  dis- 
heartened and  wanting  comfort,  you  will  like  to  have  a  few 
lines  telling  you  so,  though  they  can  do  you  no  further 
good.  I  rejoiced  so  much  yesterday  in  the  beautiful  day 
for  your  journey,  I  hardly  could  regret  you  were  not  with 
me  to  enjoy  it ;  and  my  walk  up  the  hill  was  full  of  pleasant 
and  grateful  thoughts,  both  of  you  and  the  dear  Luce,  who 
had  been  my  last  companion  on  the  Downs.  With  so 
bright  a  sky  and  balmy  an  air,  one  could  only  love  tenfold 
those  whom  God  has  given  us  to  love,  and  feel  how  littkj 
reason  one  has  to  doubt  his  wonderful  care  over  them.  1 
am  glad  you  do  not  know  how  weak  and  faithless  my  heart 
often  is  as  icgards  the  future,  and  how  many  times  there 


388  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

comes  across  my  happiness  an  unreasonable  dread  of  wha» 
is  to  come ;  such  feelings  are  however  useful,  I  daresay,  and 
serve  to  keep  up  a  sense  of  our  dependence  and  need  of 
help,  which  might  with  stronger  nerves  be  forgotten  or 
weakened.  We  have  received  such  great  mercies  hitherto, 
we  cannot  doubt  that  the  same  loving  Father  will  be  with 
us  always,  whether  in  chastening  or  joy.  Dearest  Augustus, 
you  know  how  tenderly  I  love  you  ;  and  how,  when  you  are 
absent,  my  heart  cannot  help  gushing  over  with  affection, 
for  then  I  feel  how  bare  and  desolate  life  would  be  without 
you.  It  is  so  blessed  a  thing  in  our  affection  that  no 
blights  or  spots  obscure  it,  as  is  often  the  case  in  little 
things,  between  those  who  are  really  attached,  from  dis- 
similarity in  character,  or  some  unavoidable  circumstance  of 
unsuitableness.  But  I  must  not  dilate  on  this  often-told 
theme.  I  hear  a  voice  calling  me  to  give  an  account  of 
myself,  and  though  it  should  be  ever  so  unimportant  in 
the  eyes  of  many,  to  my  own  husband  I  know  that  the' 
details  of  my  day  cannot  be  uninteresting. 

..."  The  school  was,  of  course,  my  first  object  •  where  I 
was  much  pleased  with  the  progress  the  children  had  made 
in  our  absence.  They  had  learnt  all  I  had  set  them  very 
perfectly,  and  said  it  very  well,  and  I  was  well  satisfied  that 
Mrs.  Patrick  had  done  her  duty  thoroughly.  .  .  .  Then-, 
what  else  did  I  do  ? — scold  Gideon,  who  did  not  much  like 
it,  and  said  he  should  be  three  days  over  the  work,  which 
three  days  were  short  ones,  seeing  the  potatoes  were  safely 
hodded — is  not  that  the  word  ? — before  night. 

"  Oct.  30. — No  dear  Sunday  work  to-day — no  sermon  to 
pin,  no  date  to  write,  no  hymn  to  hear.  The  house  reems 
especially  dull  and  unlike  itself  to-day;  and,  when  the  reach- 
ing was  over,  and  service  ended,  I  missed  the  dearest 
Aug.  sadly.  The  only  consolation  I  could  find  was  that 
the  singers  did  not  choose  to  sing,  and  that  both  morning 


SUNSHINE.  389 


and  evening  service  were  without  any  relief,  so  that  you 
would  have  been  tired.  The  churches  were  reversed  in 
consequence  of  the  frost  this  morning,  which  made  the 
great  church  too  damp  for  use ;  but  this  afternoon  we  had 
service  there,  and  our  seat,  I  am  happy  to  find,  has  been 
new  boarded  at  last. 

"  I  have  been  reading  Chalmers'  'Civic  Economy.'  How 
admirable  what  he  says  of  the  advantages  of  Local  Districts, 
and  the  bringing  teachers  and  people  into  contact ;  and  the 
want  of  more  labourers  in  the  vineyard  to  make  the  harvest 
plenteous.  In  how  many  places  one  hears  complaints  of 
the  want  of  churches,  and  ignorance  of  all  the  people ; 
and  yet  people  talk  of  no  Church  reform  being  necessary. 
The  danger  is,  lest  in  these  change-loving  times,  a  stone  or 
two  may  be  pulled  out,  which  may  chance  to  be  the  main 
prop  of  the  whole,  and  the  whole  edifice  may  come  down  at 
once,  where  repair  and  amendment  only  are  needed.  We 
must  labour  all  the  harder  whilst  means  and  time  are 
allowed  us ;  and,  if  in  this  little  spot  we  could  sow  some  of 
the  good  seed,  it  will  be  a  blessed  support  and  comfort 
when  the  great  earthquake  does  come.  I  pray  for  my 
dearest  Augustus  that  he  may  be  strengthened  and  con- 
firmed in  his  own  faith,  and  enabled  to  win  many  over  to 
the  Truth,  and  may  we  both  make  many  shoots  upwards,  if 
it  is  only  as  a  sign  of  our  thankful  love  for  all  the  blessings 
given  us. 

.  .  .  Sleep  well  to-night,  and  do  not  dream  about  stand- 
ing up  before  the  Bishop  to  plead  your  Anti-Founder's 
cause,  and  do  not  let  all  the  ghosts  of  poor  Wykeham's 
much  injured  and  greatly  beloved  kinsfolk  haunt  you. 
When  may  I  look  for  the  dear  step,  '  that  has  music  in  it, 
as  it  comes  up  the  stair;  for  there's  nac  luck  aboot  the 
hoose  when  my  gude  man's  awa'  ? ' " 


3QO  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


A.  W.  H.  to  M.  H. 

"  London,  Oct.  31,  1831. — We  were  at  it  till  dark.  Sir 
Herbert  Jenner  learned  and  composed ;  Erie,  strong,  clear, 
and  very  good;  Phillimore,  as  yet,  weak  as  water,  save 
such  strength  as  in  spite  of  himself  Wykeham's  statutes  give 
him.  He  has  got  half  through  his  speech,  and  will  pro- 
ceed to-morrow  morning.  Then  comes  Lefevre,  who  will, 
I  fear,  be  powerful.  We  have  the  right  of  reply,  and  all  is 
done.  You  would  have  been  amused  at  the  objection 
taken  at  the  beginning  of  the  case  against  my  presenting 
the  Appeal,  because  I  was  no  longer  a  member  of  New 
College.  He  also  read  a  passage  from  the  statutes  against 
those  who,  '  at  the  instigation  of  the  old  Serpent,'  plot  any 
innovation  on  Wykeham's  statutes.  So  that  all  my  labours 
have  been  at  the  instigation  of  the  Devil !  Truly,  if  so,  he 
has  been  a  worse  paymaster  than  usual,  for  he  has  given 
me  none  of  his  coin. 

"  Nov.  2. — Our  argument  was  resumed  yesterday.  I  got 
to  the  Court  a  quarter  before  ten,  and  found  Phillimore  at 
work.  They  had  begun  about  ten  minutes.  But  what  sort 
of  a  place  is  the  Court  ?  Why,  like  any  other  Court,  with 
one  end  raised,  like  a  horse-shoe,  with  a  great  round  chair 
in  the  centre,  wherein  sat  the  Visitor,  with  the  collar  of  the 
Garter,  but  out  of  lawn  sleeves.  Patteson  was  on  his  right, 
and  Lushington  on  his  left,  on  less  conspicuous  seats.  These 
filled  the  centre  of  the  horse-shoe  ;  we  occupied  the  right 
of  it,  Phillimore  and  Lefevre  the  left.  In  the  centre,  below 
us,  was  a  large  green-baized  table,  round  which  sat  the 
reporters  and  the  audience.  When  Phillimore  ended,  up 
got  Lefevre,  very  serious,  and  wisely  diffident.  With  the 
Canon  and  Civil  Law  he  had  the  good  sense  not  to  meddle. 
His  best  point  was  an  attempt,  and  I  expect  a  very  just  one, 
though  it  made  little  impression  on  the  Judges,  to  infer  from 


SUNSHINE.  391 

a  variety  of  old  documents  that  the  questions  discussed 
before  Bromley  and  Laud  were  not  of  degree,  but  of  pedi- 
gree— and,  if  so,  the  main  prop  of  our  argument  is  cut 
away.  Jenner  replied,  and  made  some  good  points  in 
reply  to  Phillimore,  and  would  have  made  more,  but 
Phillimore,  to  break  the  effect  of  his  speech,  kept  inter- 
rupting him  every  other  sentence.  His  law  was  dull  and 
lengthy,  and  I  half  wished  the  reply  had  fallen  to  me.  I 
woke  the  night  before  with  rny  head  full  of  what  I  should 
say  if  I  had  to  speak.  About  four  the  business  closed,  and 
the  Judges  departed,  not  half  so  tired  I  hope  as  I  was. 
My  impression  of  the  ignorance  of  Doctors'  Commons  is 
unchanged.  With  Jenner's  industry  and  attention  I  have 
every  reason  to  be  satisfied.  But  most  assuredly,  if  the 
case  were  to  be  re-argued,  I  would  go  to  work  myself;  and 
I  will  venture  to  say.  that  with  the  insight  I  have  gained 
into  the  bearings  of  Civil  Law  on  the  question,  and  the  ad- 
vantages of  great  and  good  libraries,  I  could  do  better,  or 
at  least  provide  better  materials  on  the  question." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Nov.  2. — What  is  the  dear  Luce  about,  that  I  have  not 
had  a  word  to  comfort  me  in  my  solitude  ?  but,  indeed,  you 
are  with  me  now  in  every  walk,  and  it  is  quite  curious  how 
you  rise  up  in  my  path  wherever  I  go.  It  is  no  longer  an 
occasional  thought  and  wish  that  you  might  sometime  or 
other  come  here,  a  feeling  I  used  to  have  when  breathing 
the  Down  air — this  Lucy  would  enjoy ; — but  it  is  the  cer- 
tainty that  you  know  every  bye-lane  and  house  and  field 
around  us,  and  that  to  your  mind's  eye  they  are  often  as 
present  as  they  are  to  mine  in  reality.  The  little  sparkling 
old  Hannah  Baillie  told  me  the  other  day,  '  I  never  can 
help  thinking  of  she  as  I  go  down  that  lane,  nor  should  I 
if  I  lived  to  a  hundred  ! '  And  then  she  told  me  of  your 


392  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET  LIFE. 

sitting  down  and  reading  to  her  there,  and  of  all  that  was 
said  on  both  sides.  The  dear  little  woman  is  as  eager  to 
hear  and  to  learn  as  ever,  and  there  is  a  sincerity  about  her 
which  one  must  hope  much  from.  '  Ah,'  she  said,  '  I  hope 
God  Almighty  will  bless  that  good  lady  for  all  she  did  here 
— indeed  her  pleasure  seemed  to  be  amongst  the  poor;' 
and,  little  as  it  may  seem  to  many,  by  you  the  prayer  and 
blessing  of  poor  Hannah  will  not  be  despised.  All  hands 
and  minds  are  just  now  as  busy  in  getting  in  potatoes  as 
they  were  in  gleaning  when  you  were  here,  and  few  people 
are  at  home.  Do  you  remember  the  canting  old  man,  who 
talked  of  how  many  chapters  he  read  in  a  year?  Since  we 
went  he  has  sent  his  son  and  daughter,  and  their  children, 
away,  and  taken  his  sweetheart  to  live  with  him.  So  much 
for  the  good  his  chapters  did  him  !  I  begin  to  think  his 
former  wife  was  not  much  to  be  wondered  at  for  having  a 
distaste  for  texts. 

"And  have  I  written  all  this,  and  not  said  a  word  of  the 
dear  Master,  the  chief  subject  of  my  rejoicing  over  your 
visit  that  you  have  learnt  to  know  and  love  each  other  ?  It 
is  such  a  pleasure  to  me  to  think  that  there  is  now  one 
person  who  knows  what  he  is,  and  there  is  no  one  but  you 
who  does  know  it  in  the  same  degree,  and  there  is  a  sensible 
difference  between  thinking  it  right  people  should  love  each 
other,  and  thinking  it  impossible  they  should  do  otherwise." 

"Saturday  Evening,  Nov.  12,  1831. — Augustus  has  not 
gone  down  to  the  Study.  He  is  walking  about  in  the 
drawing-room,  then  sitting  down,  and  scribbling  as  fast  as 
he  can,  then  referring,  it  may  be,  to  the  newspaper?  before 
him  ;  for  his  subject  is  the  cholera — his  text,  I  belie've,  is 
2  Chron.  vii.  4 — and  what  a  subject  it  is  !  How  soon  has 
England  followed  the  fate  of  its  sister  countries,  in  spite  of 
that  sea,  which  so  many  hoped  would  save  it  from  the 
scourge.  If  the  evil  really  comes  home  to  our  own  doors, 


SUNSHINE.  393 


God  will,  I  hope  and  trust,  strengthen  us  to  meet  the  trial. 
At  present,  I  confess,  I  shrink  at  the  prospect,  and  feel 
very  faint-hearted  in  thinking  of  the  winter  before  us. 
Sometimes  I  am  quite  ashamed  of  the  indescribable  dread 
I  feel  of  all  the  trial  of  our  faith  likely  to  beset  us,  and  the 
more  we  love  each  other,  and  enjoy  our  present  happiness, 
the  more  I  tremble  for  the  sad  reverse  it  may  please  God  to 
bring  upon  us.  For  the  first  time,  I  now  really  rejoice 
that  I  have  no  children  to  watch  over  and  add  to  my 
anxieties,  and,  in  the  present  state  of  this  country,  I  feel 
sure  it  is  far  better  to  be  as  independent  of  outward  circum- 
stances as  possible.  My  faith  is  sadly  weak  at  times. 
Pray  for  me,  dearest,  that  I  may  have  grace  given  to  help 
and  support  me,  and  to  enable  me  to  set  my  affections  more 
upon  things  above,  and  that  my  Augustus  may  be  helped  to 
rouse  the  sleepers  and  excite  the  slothful  to  watch  and  be 
ready.  The  liability  to  fevers  in  this  vale  has  taken  away 
one's  confidence  in  the  treeless  openness.  Augustus  brought 
from  London  a  medicine  chest  full  of  the  proper  medicines, 
and  he  has  been  giving  orders  to  get  the  unsavoury  lane 
purified,  as  well  as  a  dry  path  made  for  the  people  to  come 
to  church. 

"  And  now,  to  turn  to  a  more  agreeable  subject  What 
do  you  think  he  brought  me  from  London  ?  the  most 
beautiful  little  Greek  Testament  you  ever  saw.  Then  I 
have  a  Parkhurst  like  yours.  With  these  excitements,  I 
hope  to  get  on  much  with  Greek,  and,  by-the-bye,  I  can 
comfort  you  with  the  experience  I  have  had — that,  having 
for  a  long  time  been  forced  to  study  every  word,  and  fancy 
it  was  all  uphill,  and  I  was  getting  on  so  slowly,  all  at  once 
I  found  myself  far  more  advanced  than  I  thought,  and  got 
on  much  more  rapidly.  It  is  much  the  best  way  to  read 
only  a  little,  and  make  yourself  thoroughly  mistress  of  it, 
as  you  seem  to  be  doing." 


394  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  Sunday  Ercning. — How  I  wish  you  could  have  been 
here  to-day,  and  have  heard  the  sermon.  Augustus  began 
by  saying  that  he  should  explain  what  the  danger  was  that 
the  form  of  •  prayer  alluded  to,  and  entered  into  all  the 
details  respecting  the  disease,  its  beginning,  and  gradual 
approach ;  read  out  of  the  newspaper  the  symptoms,  and 
also  the  advice  of  the  physicians  about  temperance  and 
cleanliness ;  then  specified  how  this  country,  from  its  thick 
population  and  rapid  communication,  was,  more  than  any 
other,  likely  to  have  it  spread  in  every  part;  entered  into  the 
details  of  how  every  house  should  be  ventilated,  and  how 
both  personal  and  domestic  cleanliness  were  essential  as 
precautions,  and  all  this  before  it  came  to  our  doors.  When 
it  was  really  come — if  it  did — '  the  first  thing,  to  put  the 
patient  into  a  bed  as  hot  as  possible,  the  second  thing  to 
come  to  me,1  without  a  moment's  loss  of  time — an  hour's 
delay  might  be  fatal  :  he  had  procured  all  the  necessary 
medicines.  When,  from  the  temporal  danger,  and  the  pre- 
cautions necessary,  he  turned  to  the  far  more  important 
need  of  timely  repentance,  and  the  impossibility  in  this 
sickness  of  turning  to  God  at  the  last  hour,  and  was 
gradually  warmed  by  the  subject  to  exhort  and  beseech 
their  consideration  of  these  things,  you  may  fancy  how 
the  dear  Augustus's  countenance  was  lighted  up,  and  how 
all  the  feebleness  of  bodily  fear  (of  which  he  has  by  nature 
much  in  cases  of  danger)  was  subdued  and  conquered  by 
the  bright  hope  within  him  and  the  prospect  of  serving  his 
Lord  and  Master ;  and  when  his  appeal  to  their  soul's  wel- 
fare ended  by  his  triumphant  question  of,  '  What  have 
Christ's  servants  to  fear  ? — a  little  sickness,  a  few  pangs,  a 
plunge  into  the  grave,  and  an  issue  thence  to  life  and 
glory  ! '  the  impression  left  was  far  from  being  the  melan- 
choly one  which  all  the  earlier  details  of  his  sermon  might 
have  led  one  to  expect,  and  I  really  feel  more  comfortable 


SUNSHINC.  395 


than  I  have  done  for  some  days.  It  was  in  Great  Alton 
Church,  and  the  people  were,  as  you  may  suppose,  all  atten- 
tion, and  some,  I  believe,  in  tears.  God  grant  their  hearts 
might  be  touched.  Augustus  got  through  it  very  firmly, 
but  could  scarcely  get  through  the  blessing.  At  this 
moment  he  is  resting  upon  the  sofa,  and  I  have  been 
playing  and  singing  the  hymn  in  times  of  danger, — 'And 
when  thy  sorrows  visit  us,  oh  grant  thy  patience  too.' " 

A.  W.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"Nor.  22. — The  dear  Mia  and  her  husband  unite — when 
are  they  disunited  ? — to  send  greeting  to  their  dear  Luce. 
They  wish  she  was  here  to  keep  the  birthday  to-day,  and  to 

rejoice  with  them  in  their  happy  lot I  have  taken 

a  great  liking,  a  great  respect,  rather,  for  Pontin.  We 
were  asking  him  about  bedding,  and  he  said,  with  the 
greatest  simplicity,  '  Oh,  we  are  very  well  off  now — we 
have  got  sheets.'  'But,  to  keep  you  warm?'  'Oh,  yes, 
and  we  are  warm  enough  with  the  sheets — we  do  very 
well,  thank  you.'  And  his  little  girl  the  other  day,  seeing 
our  Jack  and  Dull  coming  down  the  brow,  put  down  her 
umbrella,  though  it  was  raining,  and  hid  it  under  her  cloak. 
'  Why  did  you  do  that,  my  little  girl  ? '  '  Not  to  frighten 
the  horses.' " 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"Nov.  22. — Augustus  is  just  gone  off  to  the  barn, 
having  been  busy  studying  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount '  for 
to-night.  I  wish  for  you  so  much  in  our  daily  evening 
lecture.  Sumner's  book  is  very  good  for  the  purpose,  and, 
of  course,  Aug.  puts  in  explanatory  bits  of  his  own,  and  he 
sometimes  reads  one  of  Reginald's  hymns.  The  people 
bring  their  Bibles,  and  look  out  any  references,  and  it  is 
just  what  I  have  long  wished  for.  We  have  to-day  finished, 


396  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE 

together,  Malachi,  and  shall  begin  to-morrow  with  Lowth's 
Isaiah.  You,  too,  will  be  studying  this  prophet,  for  he  is 
in  the  course ;  so  you  may  think  of  us,  and  I  know  you 
like  to  know  our  line  of  thought  and  study." 

JULIUS  HARE  to  M.  H. 

"  Cambridge,  Nov.  22,  1831. — Very  many  happy  returns 
of  the  day  to  you,  dearest  Maria !  and  on  very  many  lyths 
and  22nds  of  November  may  you  and  Augustus  drink  each 
other's  healths,  each  of  you  blest  in  seeing  the  other  by 
your  side,  both  of  you  blest  in  living  amid  a  flock  to  whom 
you  are  administering  the  comforts  of  earth,  and  whom  you 
are  guiding  towards  the  bliss  of  heaven.  Dearest  Maria, 
it  is  a  great  joy  to  think  that  one  of  my  brothers,  the 
dearest  of  them,  is  blest  with  the  choicest  gift  that  Heaven 
can  bestow,  a  good  and  loving  wife.  For  myself,  though  I 
know  full  well  how  to  prize  it,  though  there  is  nothing  on 
earth  thr.t  my  heart  reveres  so  much  as  the  graces  of 
womanly  virtue,  my  destiny  has  cut  out  a  path  for  me,  from 
which  I  can  only  gaze  at  it  from  afar,  but  which,  God  be 
thanked,  has  many  pleasures  of  its  own,  far  more  than 
enough  to  content  any  heart,  not  a  prey  to  morbid  cravings. 
Still,  I  rejoice  most  heartily  that  one  of  my  brothers  has 
met  with  the  goodlier  lot,  the  choicer  happiness ;  and  may 
God  bless  you,  Maria,  for  being  the  source  of  it — for  making 
Augustus  so  happy  !  I  wish  I  could  give  you  my  greetings 
by  word  of  mouth,  and  could  drink  your  healths  in  your 
presence.  As  it  is,  I  must  content  myself  with  doing  so  in 
my  lonely  tower :  and  yet  I  ought  not  to  call  it  lonely ;  for 
it  is  thronged  with  immortals,  though  the  outward  shell  of 
mortality  is  rarely  seen  in  it. 

"  When  you  come  here  next  spring, — and,  as  you  have 
set  your  mind  upon  dragging  me  away  from  my  beautiful 
rooms  to  Hurstmonceaux,  in  order  that  you  may  stay  in 


SUNSHINE.  397 


your  beautiless  parsonage  of  Alton,  you  positively  must  not 
put  off  coming  here,  God  willing,  beyond  the  coming  out 
of  the  leaves  next  spring, — you  must  make  yourself  at  home 
here  for  at  least  a  week,  and  then  you  will  have  time  to 
find  out  what  noble-minded  persons  I  am  living  among. 

"  Edward  Stanley  seemed  thoroughly  well  pleased  with 
his  stay  here,  and  told  me  that  our  great  men  were  the 
best  people  he  had  ever  met  with,  talking  wisdom  and 
nonsense  in  the  same  breath,  and  with  the  same  uncon- 
straint,  and  pouring  out  their  knowledge  as  liberally  as  if  it 
was  dross." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Pcnrhos,  Nov.  15,  1831. — My  week  of  solitude,  unlike 
yours,  has  seemed  only  a  day  long.  I  have  done  so  much 
Greek.  No  study  ever  came  in  one's  way  at  a  better  time  ; 
it  puts  everything  else  out  of  my  head  and  makes  the  hours 
fly  :  and  living  as  I  do  so  much  alone  in  thoughts  and 
interests,  though  with  many  round,  it  is  very  wholesome  to 
have  some  one  engrossing  study;  and  to  look  steadily  at  the 
times  before  us,  with  the  almost  certain  approach  of  cholera, 
requires  a  steady  and  continual  practice  of  Faith,  which 
though  I  can  enforce  strongly,  I  shrink  from  at  times 
myself  in  looking  forward  to  all  that  may  be  in  store  for 
those  I  love.  One  thing  always  will  come  into  my  prayer* 
— that  if  the  cholera  does  come,  it  may  not  reach  Alton. 

"Nov.  22,  1831. — The  first  thing  I  remembered  when  I 
woke  was — your  birthday,  and  my  eye  fixed  on  the  dear 
Alton  picture  over  the  fireplace.  The  first  verse  of  the 
morning  Psalm  is  the  proper  language  of  rejoie'ng  for  this, 
day — oh,  how  often  we  forget  to  thank  God  fo.T  the  pp>e.ir 
blessings  he  is  loading  us  with,  while  we  are  anticipating  a 
time  when  they  may  cease,  forgetting  that  if  we  are  /it's 
children  they  never  can  cease.  God  bless  you  both>  is 


MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


the  constant  prayer  of  my  heart.  Do  not  fear  the  cholera. 
Put  all  into  the  hands  of  that  God,  whose  eye  is  ever  over 
us.  You  may  say  of  me  —  '  she  talks  to  me,  who  never  had 
a  husband,  and  I  am  very  weak  in  Faith  '  —  but  we  both 
know  there  is  a  Rock  and  Shelter  from  every  storm.  There 
is  a  beautiful  passage  on  Faith  in  our  favourite  Leighton,  — 
'  Faith  rolls  the  soul  over  on  God,  —  Faith  sets  a  soul  in 
Christ,  and  then  it  looks  down  upon  all  temptations,  as  at 
the  bottom  of  a  rock,  breaking  themselves  with  foam,'  —  or 
something  like  this." 

"  Alderlcy,  Dec.  22.  —  I  dreamt  last  night  I  was  at  Alton, 
and  you  told  me  in  consequence  of  something  Augustus 
had  said  at  church,  that  Mary  Brown  had  decided  on  going 
to  the  sacrament  at  Christmas.  Often,  when  I  am  on  my 
knees  in  prayer,  the  white  cottage,  or  the  dirty  lane,  have 
come  so  visibly  before  me,  it  is  no  exertion  of  thought,  but 
quite  natural  to  pray  for  her.  Poor  thing,  the  more  one 
feels  the  perfect  joy  it  is,  to  walk  under  the  light  of  God's 
countenance,  the  more  easy  it  is  to  pray  for  those  who  are 
for  a  time  suffered  to  walk  in  darkness.  All  this  would  be 
Greek  to  poor  Mary,  but  tell  her  I  thought  of  her  last 
Sunday  in  church,  when  reading  the  Collect  and  Epistle,  and 
the  Epistle  struck  me  as  one  just  comfortable  and  short  for 
her  to  learn.  It  is  a  good  Christmas  greeting.  'Rejoice  in 
the  Lord  always;  and  again  I  say,  Rejoice'  —  as  if  there  was 
nothing  more  else  for  God's  people  to  do,  but  to  rejoice.  I 
shall  rejoice  much  with  you  this  Christmas,  for  I  shall  spend 
much  of  my  time  with  you.  I  hope  Julius  will  have  some 
sunny  days  to  walk  up  Old  Adam,  and  if  he  calls  the  view 
from  thence  bcautiless,  he  will  be  only  fit  to  live  all  his 
days  with  the  noble-minded  sages  of  Trinity  College. 

"  Augustus  would  be  ashamed  of  me  (though  you  will  not) 
if  he  knew  how  I  delight  in  all  the  smallest  things  you  can 
tell  me  about  him,  the  Mia,  and  Alton.  You  need  never 


SUNSHINE.  399 


fear  speaking  of  him,  though  it  be  in  praise.  Remember  I 
have  lived  under  the  same  roof  for  three  months,  and  love 
him  so  much,  that  I  can  well  understand  your  loving  him 
almost  too  much.  If  all  Christian  pastors  were  like  him, 
there  would  be  a  different  spirit  in  England  now.  The 
seed  you  are  now  sowing  in  Alton  will  not  be  lost,  but  after 
many  years  of  perseverance  and  trial,  with  God's  blessing 
on  your  labour,  may  we  not  hope  a  little  Christian  band  of 
rescued  souls  will,  from  that  apparently  barren  soil,  enter 
into  heaven,  there  to  prove  your  crown  of  rejoicing." 

"Dec.  29. — Your  note  has  just  come.  Such  brings  some- 
times more  comfort  and  love  and  healing  on  its  wings,  than 
pages  of  writing.  If  much  talking  is  bad,  a  word  in  season 
is  rcry  good.  If  God  indeed  is  our  God,  we  do  well  to 
rejoice,  but  very  ill  to  complain  of  any  little  passing  trouble. 
It  is  in  the  storm  and  amid  the  rocks  that  the  Anchor  and 
Beacon  are  most  prized,  and  many  a  blessed  promise  in  the 
Bible  would  remain  a  sealed  promise,  if  the  key  of  sorrow, 
or  trial,  or  temptation,  were  not  sent  to  open  its  stores,  and 
send  warm  to  one's  heart  such  words  as — 'Be  of  good 
cheer,  it  is  I,  be  not  afraid.' 

....  "I  have  been  trying  lately  to  like  old  Jeremy  as 
well  as  I  do  Leighton,  because  Augustus  does,  but  I  cannot 
help  finding  my  greatest  delight  in  the  meek  and  spiritually 
minded  Leighton.  Jeremy  puts  a  great  staff  into  my  hand, 
but  Leighton  does  the  same,  and  at  the  same  time  puts  a 
rose  into  the  other  hand." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"Dec.  14,  1831. — I  am  just  returned  from  the  top  of  Old 
Adam,  having  thought  of  you  as  I  can  scarce  help  doing 
always  on  those  green  sloping  Downs,  with  all  that  wide 
country  spread  below  one ;  and  watching,  not  the  busy 
gleaners  and  the  waggons  loading,  but  the  slow,  toilsome 


4°0  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

plodding  of  the  horses  and  oxen  at  the  plough.  The  soft 
mild  air  and  autumn  gleams  make  one's  position  so  high 
above  all  earthly  fogs  and  smoke  as  wholesome  for  mind  as 
body,  and  I  am  come  home  all  the  better  for  the  pure  air  I 
breathed  there. 

"  Augustus  gives  an  extra  lecture  this  evening  to  as  many 
as  like  to  come,  about  the  Sacrament,  and  will  have  more 
next  week  upon  it,  preparatory  to  Christmas.  He  takes 
increasing  delight  in  this  part  of  his  work,  as  well  as  in  our 
domestic  lecture,  and  I  do  hope  and  trust  that  God's  blessing 
may  attend  his  labours. 

"  The  cholera  seems  gaining  ground My  really 

greatest  fear  of  future  trouble  and  sorrow  arises  out  of  the 
conviction  I  have,  that  such  would  lead  me  nearer  to  God, 
and  that  my  heart  does  need  often  a  greater  exercise  of  self- 
denial,  and  to  be  taught  a  greater  dependence  on  happiness 
not  of  this  world.  I  want  to  be  helped  to  be  ever  ready  to 
let,  '  Rapture,  comfort,  present  ease,  as  Heaven  shall  bid 
them  come  and  go.'  One  thing  I  do  feel,  and  that  is  after 
moments  of  greatest  depression,  there  comes  across  me  a 
bright  and  cheering  hope  that  God  will,  when  the  hour 
comes,  He  will  make  a  way  for  us  out  of  the  trial,  or 
strengthen  and  support  us  through  it.  As  we  were  reading 
>n  Sunday  evening  of  dear  old  Latimer's  last  moments, 
how  glorious  did  one  feel  a  Christian's  end  to  be,  and  what 
the  triumph  over  human  impurity  and  weakness  which  such 
a  spirit  had  gained. 

"  Last  Sunday  as  Augustus  had  preached  in  our  church  in 
the  morning,  he  had  not  been  able  to  write  a  second 
sermon  for  Great  Alton,  so  he  took  a  volume  of  Bishop 
Wilson's  sermons,  which  are  very  plain,  up  into  the  pulpit, 
and  after  a  few  words  explanatory  about  the  good  old  man, 
he  read  them  a  very  good  Advent  sermon,  with  his  own 
little  alterations." 


SUNSHINE.  401 

"  St.  John's  Day. — I  longed  yesterday  to  have  answered 
your  dear  letter,  but  the  sun  shone  so  bright,  that,  when 
Shop  was  ended,  I  could  not  resist  a  ride  till  our  early 
Christmas  dinner.  When  I  came  into  the  house  I  met 
Augustus  in  the  passage,  his  face  radiant  with  joy,  and  he 
pulled  me  into  the  study  to  see  a  parcel  just  arrived  from 
Aunt  Louisa/  containing  three  most  comfortable  warm 
shawls  for  our  three  best  old  women,  and  a  parcel  of  warm 
stockings  for  the  men.  Cannot  you  fancy  the  dear  man's 
happiness  over  them :  I  could  not  guess  what  had  hap- 
pened. Our  Christmas  Day  was  perfect,  except  that  in 
consequence  of  some  dissension  amongst  the  singers,  we 
were  deprived  of  our  waking  carol,  and  I  was  obliged  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  good  news  being  communicated  by  a  voice 
sweeter  to  my  ears  than  a  more  harmonious  one  would 
sound  to  many.  Perhaps  the  moment  of  greatest  joy  in  the 
whole  day  was  when  I  saw  the  red  cloak  and  black  bonnet 
of  little  old  Hannah  Baillie  amongst  those  who  were  round 
the  altar,  and  saw  and  heard  Augustus,  with  eyes  full  of 
tears  and  such  a  smile  of  joy,  and  his  voice  trembling  with 
emotion,  give  her  the  blessed  bread  and  wine.  He  could 
hardly  say  the  words,  and  the  afiectionateness  of  his  man- 
ner to  her,  and  the  simplicity  of  heart  with  which  we  knew 
she  was  receiving  the  blessing,  were  most  touching.  Poor 
Mary  Brown,  alas  !  had  no  heart  to  come,  but  I  saw  her  in 
the  evening  steal  across  the  fields  to  church,  and  I  hope 
she  picked  out  a  great  deal  of  comfort  and  good  from  the 
sermon." 

M.  H.'s  JOURNAL  (The  Green  Book). 

"  Jan.  4,  1832.— Perhaps  it  is  for  me  the  more 

desirable  to  have  some  written  trace  of  my  present  enjoy- 
ment left,  since  I  bear  about  with  me  a  constant  impression, 
a  feeling  I  can  hardly  give  words  to.  that  my  present  life  is 

VOL.  i .  D  D 


402  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

as  it  were  a  dream,  from  which  I  shall  be  awakened  before 
it  has  lasted  any  great  length  of  time,  to  find  myself  once 
more  alone  in  the  world,  with  God  only  as  my  refuge  and 
comfort.  This  is  no  new  feeling  or  view  of  things,  although 
it  is  of  course  strengthened  by  the  circumstances  under 
which  this  year  has  begun — circumstances  which,  I  must 
own,  press  at  times  heavily  on  my  mind,  far  more  so,  I  fear, 
than  a  faithful  trust  would  allow  of.  '  Be  not  faithless,  but 
believing,'  is  a  charge  I  too  often  need  as  regards  temporal 
things ;  for  though  I  have  a  firm  belief  that  with  the  trial 
will  come  strength  meet  to  support  it,  if  we  only  seek  and 
ask  for  it,  my  faint  heart  is  sadly  apt  to  shrink  from  the 
prospect  of  trial  and  suffering,  and  from  the  possibility  of 
having  my  greatest  earthly  comfort  and  treasure  taken  away. 
Most  deeply  do  I  feel  the  weakness  of  my  faith  and  how 
little  it  practically  works  within  me,  when  fears  and  doubts 
and  anxieties  cross  me  about  a  future  which  is  all  in  the 
hands  of  Him  who  has  so  mercifully  ruled  all  the  past  for 
my  happiness,  and  who  will  not  leave  nor  forsake  me,  even 
should  He  see  fit  to  call  to  himself  the  heavenly  spirit  he 
is  now  preparing  for  heaven.  To  that  home  we  are  both 
journeying.  Oh  !  may  we  never  turn  aside  from  the  strait 
way,  but  whatever  rocks  beset  our  path,  may  we  be  per- 
mitted to  tread  it  together,  and  may  the  light,  as  we  go* 
on,  ever  brighten  before  us  and  lead  us  on  from  hope  to- 
hope,  forgetting  what  is  behind  and  beside  us,  and  pressing 
forward  with  greater  earnestness  to  the  prize  of  our  high 
calling." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"Jan.  22,  1832. — Augustus  has  now  an  evening  school 
on  Mondays,  and  studies  as  much  for  it  as  if  it  was  a  scien- 
tific work,  in  all  the  School-Books,  to  learn  the  best  mode 
of  drawing  out  the  sluggish  understanding  of  his  untaught 


SUNSHINE.  403 


lads.  It  has  always  been  a  subject  of  reproach  to  me  that 
we  had  made  no  attempts  to  teach  this  class  who  are  above 
the  Sunday  school  in  age,  though  far  below  it  in  knowledge, 
and  the  prospect  of  confirmation  just  gives  us  a  handle  for 
instructing  them.  There  are  many  grown  people  who 
express  a  wish  to  be  confirmed,  and  we  shall  not  dissuade 
them,  as  it  affords  a  pretext  for  talking  and  reading  to  them, 
and  enforcing  an  examination  into  the  state  of  their  souls, 
and  may  eventually  lead  them  to  come  to  the  Lord's  Supper 
with  fewer  scruples  and  more  hope  of  benefit.  Every  way 
opened  for  one  is  so  good  a  thing,  for  it  requires  some 
courage,  and  I  fear  more  boldness  than  we  have,  to  press  the 
subject  on  people  uncalled  for. 

"  We  dined  with  the  C's.  the  other  day,  and  at  this 
dinner  party  an  agreement  was  made  amongst  the  clergy  to 
meet  at  our  house  on  the  loth  of  February  to  discuss  how 
they  might  form  a  society  amongst  themselves  to  meet  at 
stated  times  and  communicate  together  on  professional  and 
religious  subjects.  The  difficulty  will  be  how  to  make  it 
general  enough  to  admit  members  of  different  opinions  and 
degrees  of  zeal,  which,  in  order  to  do  general  good,  must  be 
an  object; and  how  to  make  it,  as  Mr.  Majendie  well  said, 
a  meeting  not  like  a  common  dinner-party  of  neighbours, 
but  one  from  which  each  might  return  home  better,  and 
encouraged  and  stimulated  on  to  further  exertion.  The 
hope  is  that  the  decidedly  uncongenial  will  not  join,  and 
that  those  who  are  only  a  little  sluggish  and  partially  asleep 
may  get  some  little  good. 

"  I  wish  you  had  seen  Augustus's  grateful  face  the  other 
day  when  he  had  been  talking  with  old  Pontin,  who  came 
to  him  for  advice  about  confirmation,  and  who  did  express 
himself  so  thankfully  for  all  he  had  received,  more  especially 
for  thu  spiritual  instruction  he  got  in  the  barn.  I  came  in 
at  the  moment,  and  when  the  good  old  man  left,  the  room, 


404  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Augustus  cried  like  a  child.  Truly  it  is  a  blessed  office  to 
have  thus  to  minister  comfort  and  consolation  to  the  sick 
in  heart,  and  with  even  one's  weak  and  imperfect  endeavours 
to  be  able  to  do  some  little  good  ;  and  whilst  so  much 
remains  to  be  done,  and  so  much  is  undone,  I  trust  we 
shall  not  be  tempted  to  bow  down  to  our  own  acts,  though 
one  must  be  ever  watchful,  for  of  all  the  deceitful  insidious 
ways  by  which  self  sets  itself  up,  there  are  none  more  so 
than  through  the  medium  of  things  done.  When  there  is 
something  tangible  to  lay  hold  of,  then  self  erects  its  head  : 
'  I  have  done  all  this, — spent  this  money,  or  time,  or 
trouble  ! ' " 

"  Jan.  9. — The  Master  began  his  sermon  on  New  Year's 
Day  by  telling  the  people  what  was  meant  in  the  world  by 
'  a  happy  new  year,'  and  then  dilated  on  what  he  wished  for 
them  by  the  expression,  in  referring  to  that  blessing  as  in- 
cluding all  he  could  most  desire  to  be  granted  them,  and 
explaining  to  them  all  it  included.  It  was  a  very  happy 
New  Year's  Day,  and  the  first  week  of  1832  has  been  most 
blessed.  Every  day  we  seem  to  grow  happier  and  more 
united,  and  often  do  I  tremble  and  turn  away  from  the 
thought  that  it  is  so,  in  dread  of  its  being  thought  fit  to 
withdraw  it  from  us. 

"I  quite  long  for  you  to  read  Neander.  To  be  sure  it 
does  make  one  groan  over  the  change  from  Early  Christi- 
anity, and  yet  he  is  so  fair  and  impartial,  he  does  not  in  the 
least  attempt  to  conceal  that  human  nature  was  then  just  the 
same  as  now, — just  as  prone  to  set  itself  up  and  rest  in  the 
change  produced  by  forms,  just  as  ready  to  slacken  its  zeal 
whenever  persecution  lessened.  Neander  thinks  so  much 
more  of  the  inward  than  outward  service,  that  you  will  see 
he  is  not  very  orthodox  according  to  our  Church  on  outward 
forms  of  government,  &c.,  but  the  Christian  life  he  does  set 
forth  most  beautifully,  and  I  can  hardly  conceive  a  person 


SUNSHINE.  405 


reading  through  his  book  and  not  feeling  more  impressed 
with  the  feeling  and  understanding  of  what  spiritual  Chris- 
tianity ought  to  be,  and  how  it  should  leaven  our  whole 
life  and  amalgamate  itself  with  our  habits.  In  a  passage 
quoted  from  Terttillian  on  the  blessings  of  a  Christian 
marriage,  you  will,  I  hope,  think  of  us.  About  prayer  it  is 
excellent.  I  will  quote  a  passage  as  a  specimen  :  '  The 
spirit  of  thankfulness  to  a  heavenly  redeeming  Father,  the 
spirit  of  childlike  resignation  to  Him,  the  feeling  in  regard 
to  Him  of  the  needfulness  of  his  assistance,  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  being  nothing  and  being  able  to  do  nothing 
without  Him,  must  animate  the  whole  Christian  life.  This 
life  must,  therefore,  be  a  continued  thanksgiving  for  the 
grace  of  redemption,  a  prayer  of  constant  longing  after  an 
increase  of  holiness  by  communion  with  the  Redeemer. 
This  was  the  view  of  prayer  which  the  New  Testament  was 
designed  to  substitute  in  the  place  of  that  which  had  pre- 
viously prevailed.' 

"  We  never  take  '  the  Sabbath  day's  journey  '  now ;  it  is 
too  late  after  church.  It  is  now  only  in  the  new  orchard 
walk,  and  thence  we  see  all  the  dear  people  going  across 
the  great  field  in  their  smock  frocks  and  red  cloaks,  The 
church  is  fuller  than  ever. 

"  Feb.  21. — Whenever  anything  is  going  on  I  long  to  tell 
you,  because  I  know  you  will  rejoice  when  we  rejoice  and 
sorrow  when  we  sorrow.  Augustus  has  been  very  busy  the 
last  day  or  two  bringing  into  effect  his  long-wished-for  plan 
for  giving  the  cottagers  each  a  piece  of  land  for  their  own, 
and  Maslen  having  consented  to  give  up  a  part  of  our  glebe 
which  he  rented,  Augustus  has  determined  to  let  it  out  in 
lots  to  every  family  in  the  parish  in  proportion  to  its  size. 
Gideon,  as  our  ambassador,  went  round  to  give  notice,  and 
yesterday,  after  the  Shop  was  over,  every  man  having  a 
house  in  the  parish  came,  and  they  all  stood  round  the 


406  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

kitchen  while  the  happy  rector  put  down  the  quantity  of 
land  each  wished  to  have,  and  read  to  them  his  conditions 
and  rules,  to  which  they  all  joyfully  consented. 

"  It  is  since  I  last  wrote  that  the  cholera  has  made  such 
near  approaches  to  us.  In  consequence,  Augustus  gave 
notice  on  Sunday  in  church  that  he  had  always  determined 
when  it  came  so  near,  to  have  weekly  prayers  in  church,  and 
he  therefore  now  told  them  that  it  was  his  intention  to  have 
them  at  half-past  eleven  o'clock  every  Wednesday,  the 
time  at  which  he  hoped  it  would  be  most  convenient  for 
them  to  come, — that  they  were  not  to  be  alarmed  at  the 
approach  of  danger,  but  meet  it  with  the  boldness  of 
Christians.  And  then  he  told  them  how  the  heathen  fled 
from  their  sick  in  time  of  pestilence,  and  how  the  primitive 
Christians  nursed  them  and  devoted  themselves  fearlessly 
in  the  service  of  others ;  and  after  a  little  further  exhortation 
on  how  they  should  feel  on  this  occasion — how  it  behoved 
them  more  especially  to  repent  and  turn  to  God  in  earnest, 
he  said  that  he  hoped  those  who  were  not  able  to  come 
and  join  with  us  in  church  in  imploring  God's  mercy  and 
forgiveness,  would,  when  they  heard  in  the  field  the  church 
bell  summoning  us  to  this  service,  put  up  their  own  prayers 
for  the  same  purpose. 

"  We  are  looking  forward  with  great  impatience  to  the 
Feast  day,  which  is  to  succeed  our  Fast,  and  you  will  fancy 
how  the  dear  Augustus  chuckles  over  the  thought  of  our 
dinner-party  in  the  barn,  of  Becky  King,  Hannah  Baillie, 
and  all  the  old  men  in  both  parishes.  They  know  nothing 
of  it  yet.  These  would  seem  very  egotistical  details  to  any 
one  but  you. 

"  Wednesday  Evening. — Our  congregation  was  thirty-five 
besides  children,  which  was  satisfactory,  and  shows  they  liked 
the  plan.  Of  course  Augustus  chose  and  shortened  the 
prayers  a  little,  so  that  they  might  get  to  their  work  in  time." 


SUNSHINE.  407 

A.  W.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  We  have  just  got  Arnold's  second  volume.  As  far  as 
I  have  seen  them,  the  sermons  are  quite  a  model :  they  are 
aimed  with  great  care  and  skill  at  the  congregation  he  is 
addressing,  and  he  generally  hits  between  wind  and  water. 

You  must  read  them He  ought  to  be  a  bishop ; 

though  his  promotion  will  occasion  a  great  outcry.  An 
excellent  high-churchman  said  of  him  the  other  day,  '  I 
know  him  and  revere  his  virtues;  but  I  will  not  buy  his 
book  :  I  may  perhaps  look  into  it ;  for  he  is  just  the  man  to 
do  incalculable  mischief.'  So  was  said  of  Wilberforce ;  so 
was  said  of  Luther ;  so  will  ever  be  said  of  those  clear-voiced 
men  whom  God  raises  up  from  time  to  time  to  speak  plainly 
in  the  ears  of  his  sleeping  people." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Alderley,  Feb.  1 5. — I  long  to  read  Dr.  Arnold.  All  my 
prejudices  are  in  his  favour;  it  seems  to  me  the  present 
times  are  particularly  calculated  to  keep  prejudice  low  and 
humble.  The  narrow  road  to  heaven,  though  still  we  are 
sure  as  strait  as  it  was  when  our  Saviour  described  it,  is,  to 
the  human  eye,  now  so  broken  up  into  very  narrow  lines,  that 
some  good  men  walk  side  by  side,  their  eye  fixed  on  the  same 
object,  their  feet  avoiding  the  same  stumbling-blocks,  but  yet 
with  a  wall  between  them,  which  prevents  the  more  lowly 
on-creeping  traveller  from  seeing  that  they  are  walking 
together.  How  differently  the  world  speaks  of  and  judges 
two  such  men  as  Dr.  Arnold  and  Mr.  Girdlestone ;  and  how 
differently  they  themselves  see  human  measures  and  things, 
— yet  they  are  one  in  spirit,  and  one  in  labouring  to  do  all 
for  their  Master's  glory.  Many,  we  may  trust,  are  loving 
members  of  that  blessed  invisible  Church  within  a  visible 
Church,  which  Cowper  speak'  of,  who  are,  to  earthly  eyes, 
walking  very  far  asunder. 


408  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  Feb.  28.  I  open  your  letters  with  a  little  blessing,  and  I 
close  them  with  another.  From  the  first  day  I  heard  of  the 
cholera  being  in  London,  I  have  said  an  additional  prayer, 
with  my  evening  one,  for  you,  my  darling,  that  your  faith 
might  be  strengthened,  and  that  you  might  be  enabled  to 
cast  all  your  care,  your  one  great  care  and  treasure,  wholly 
and  entirely  on  God.  The  moment  I  heard  of  the  cholera, 
I  remembered  what  Augustus  said  about  having  prayers, 
ar.d  hoped  he  would.  When  I  read  of  the  dear  people 
standing  round  the  kitchen,  listening  to  their  rector,  my 
heart  was  as  full  as  if  I  had  been  one  of  them. 

....  "It  is  very  comforting  to  see  how  strong  the  spirit 
of  Protestantism  still  is  in  England  and  Ireland,  that  if  there 
really  is  danger,  thousands  will  flock  to  their  post,  and  as  yet 
a  Radical  Ministry  will  not  be  England's  Law.  I  have  felt  so 
often  lately  how  much  easier  it  must  be  to  '  act  the  martyr's 
part,'  than  the  patient  waiter  and  truster, — how  glorious  and 
enviable  must  have  been  the  last  moments  of  some  of  our 
Reformers,  their  human  feelings,  knowing  what  a  legacy  they 
were  leaving  to  their  country, — their  heavenly  eye  seeing 
what  St.  Stephen  saw.  If  there  is  so  much  dispiriting  and 
sad  in  the  present  state  of  England  and  Ireland,  there  is 
much  also  most  reviving ;  and,  perhaps,  if  actual  danger 
should  come  to  England  in  a  political  or  religious  form,  all 
party  spirit  will  be  forgotten,  and  the  true  Christian  Martyr 
and  Patriot  again  appear  united." 

The  intimate  knowledge  which  Augustus  Hare  had  now 
attained  of  all  the  family  and  domestic  interests  of  his 
parishioners  had  drawn  the  tie  between  pastor  and  people 
at  Alton  so  very  close  ;  and  the  grateful  affection  with 
which  they  regarded  him,  the  warm  welcome  with  which 
they  greeted  him  on  his  morning  walks  (for  the  very  small 


SUNSHINE.  409 

size  of  the  place  enabled  him  to  visit  almost  every  cottage 
daily),  had  brought  the  Alton  villagers  so  near  his  heart, 
that  he  looked  forward  with  dread  to  any  possibility  of 
separation,  and  felt  that  in  any  other  event,  except  that  of 
the  wardenship  of  Winchester  being  offered  to  him, — a  post 
for  which  he  felt  himself  peculiarly  qualified,  and  whose 
duties  he  could  not  venture  to  evade, — he  could  not  endure 
to  be  separated  from  them.  No  pecuniary  advantages  could 
weigh  in  his  mind  against  the  comfort  of  his  quiet  home, — 
a  home  which  was  not  so  much  marked  by  any  outward 
site,  as  its  foundations  were  laid  deep  within  the  hearts  of 
his  people.  Thus  the  prospect  of  the  rich  family  living  of 
Hurstmonceaux,  in  view  of  which  he  had  married,  and 
which  he  knew  would  be  offered  to  him  by  his  brother, 
upon  the  death  of  his  uncle  Robert  Hare,  had  ceased  to 
afford  him  any  pleasure.  Unlike  his  brothers,  whose  affec- 
tions clung  around  its  old  castle,  and  who  were  attached  by 
the  associations  of  childhood  to  its  every  field  and  wood, 
Hurstmonceaux  had  never  been  his  home.  He  had  only 
been  there  on  occasional  summer  visits  with  Lady  Jones, 
and  associated  the  place  with  his  mother's  increasing  strug- 
gles against  poverty  and  ill  health,  and  her  complaints  of 
the  rudeness  and  uncouthness  of  its  people,  who  were  con- 
trasted by  her  with  the  grateful  peasantry,  to  whom  she  had 
been  accustomed  near  her  villa  at  Bologna.  He  remem- 
bered also,  that  his  mother  herself,  as  she  observed  the 
nervous  susceptibility  and  delicate  refinement  of  her  little 
Augustus,  had  felt  how  unfitted  he  would  be  to  cope  with 
such  a  people  as  that  of  Hurstmonceaux  then  was,  and  how 
much  she  would  prefer  seeing  him  established  elsewhere. 


410  MEMORIALS   OF   A  QUIET   LIFE. 

and  her  quick  and  ardent  Julius  in  the  family  living.  All 
these  circumstances  Augustus  had  for  the  last  year  urged 
upon  his  brother  Julius,  entreating  him  to  take  the  richer 
living,  when  it  fell  vacant,  and  to  leave  him  undisturbed  in 
the  humble  rectory  of  Alton. 

Since  the  death  of  Lady  Jones,  to  whom  he  had  been 
most  tenderly  attached,  and  with  whom  he  had  been  in  the 
habit,  of  staying  whenever  he  could  get  away  from  Cam- 
bridge, Julius  Hare  had  had  no  other  home  than  his  beauti- 
ful rooms  in  the  tower  overlooking  the  Lime  Avenue  at  the 
back  of  Trinity  College.  Here  he  had  rejoiced  in  the  con- 
stant society  of  a  noble  band  of  friends,  Whewell,  Worsley, 
Peacock,  Thirlwall,  Sedgwick, — and,  in  a  younger  genera- 
tion, Sterling,  Trench,  Maurice,  and  Cavendish. 

At  this  time  also,  the  professor  of  Italian  at  Cambridge 
was  the  Marchese  Spineto,  whose  clever  and  charming 
wife  had  been  a  Miss  Campbell,  of  Craigie.  With  her,  in 
great  measure,  lived  her  handsome  sister,  Jane,  widow  of 
Sir  Thomas  Munro,  Governor  of  Madras,  who  had  died  in 
India  in  1827.  A  close  intimacy  with  the  Spinetos  led, 
two  years  after  his  separation  from  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Dash- 
wood,  to  the  second  engagement  of  Julius  Hare,  with  Lady 
Munro — an  engagement  which  lasted  for  many  years,  far 
into  his  Hurstmonceaux  life. 

JULIUS  HARE  to  M.  H.  (Inserted  here  as  belonging  to  the  subject.) 

"  Trinity,  August  30,  1831. — I  have  two  long  letters  to 
thank  you  for,  dearest  Maria,  and  both  of  them,  especially 
the  latter,  are  exceedingly  delightful  and  affectionate.  The 
•subject  of  tha'  latter  one  being  so  much  the  most  important, 


STUXSHINE.  411 

I  will  say  a  few  words  about  it  first  Much  that  Augustus 
said,  and  many  of  your  arguments,  have  had  very  consider- 
able weight  with  me.  If  my  blessed  mother's  plan  was 
really  such  as  he  says,  and  events,  in  spite  of  apparent 
obstacles,  have  thus,  in  a  manner,  been  working  together 
for  its  fulfilment,  I  should  be  most  loth  to  hinder  it,  for  the 
slightest  expression  of  her  will  would  be  to  me  like  the  law 
of  heaven.  The  greater  fitness  of  a  small  parish  for 
Augustus's  health,  I  also  admit.  I  believe,  too,  there  is  a 
greater  likelihood  of  working  with  efficiency  in  your  parish 
than  at  Hurstmonceaux,  where,  from  all  I  hear,  the  flock 
are  in  a  very  wild  state,  almost  at  enmity  with  their 
shepherd.  Your  farmers  again  are  a  good  deal  more  tract- 
able than  my  uncle's.  All  this,  on  thinking  over  the  matter, 
I  see  clearly ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  I  do  not  like  to 
think  of  you  shut  up  for  life  in  that  beautiless,  uninteresting 
country,  with  your  no  garden.  The  house  might  do  very 
passably ;  but  the  no  garden  to  me  would  be  an  insuperable 
objection.  However,  of  course  it  must  rest  with  you  to 
balance  between  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  your 
present  station ;  if,  when  Hurstmonceaux  becomes  vacant, 
you  still  prefer  remaining  where  you  are,  it  will  then  be  my 
duty  to  think  about  taking  it.  Remember,  however,  that 
nothing  that  has  passed  is  to  be  considered  by  you  as 
imposing  any  obligation  upon  either  of  you.  You  are  at 
the  most  perfect  liberty  to  change  your  mind  to-morrow, 
next  month,  next  year,  or  whenever  the  living  falls ;  you  excite 
no  expectations  in  me,  no  wishes,  and  consequently  you  will 
disappoint  none.  I  am  always  averse  to  forming  plans,  to 
making  decisions  about  the  future,  which  the  very  next 
month  may  utterly  frustrate  ;  and  more  especially  in  the 
present  state  of  England,  how  impossible  is  it  to  calculate 
what  will  be  the  state  of  any  living  in  England,  or  whether 
there  will  be  any  livings  at  all,  next  year  !  If  the  Birmingham 


412  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

political  union  take  it  into  their  heads  to  say  there  shall 
not,  our  ministers  and  our  parliament  will  crouch  before 
them,  and  execute  their  decree.  So  far  as  concerns  myself, 
I  should  be  very  sorry  were  any  event  to  happen  soon 
which  would  take  me  away  from  my  present  station.  And 
this  leads  me  to  your  very  kind  sisterly  admonition.  Now 
both  you  and  Augustus  seem  to  me  to  have  forgotten  that, 
according  to  the  principles  and  the  universal  practice  of 
our  Church,  the  education  of  youth  at  both  schools  and 
universities  is  especially  entrusted  to  the  care  of  her 
ministers ;  so  that  he  who  is  engaged  in  that  office  is 
labouring  in  his  vocation.  These  principles  and  this  prac- 
tice seem  to  me  to  be  perfectly  justifiable  and  right.  It  is 
a  narrow  notion  of  the  duties  of  the  Christian  ministry  to 
conceive  that  a  Christian  minister  is  not  following  his 
calling  unless  he  is  employed  in  pastoral  duties;  though 
these  are  perhaps  the  noblest  and  heavenliest  part  of  his 
office.  So  that  if  you  tell  me  I  am  not  performing  my  duty 
as  Christ's  minister,  I  will  answer,  Yes.  But  that  is  owing 
to  my  own  weakness  and  waywardness,  and  is  no  way 
chargeable  on  the  post  where  I  am  standing.  It  is  per- 
fectly true  that  the  welfare  of  England,  perhaps  her  very 
existence,  depends  mainly  on  the  activity  and  zeal  of  her 
ministers,  and  on  God's  blessing  prospering  their  en- 
deavours. But  it  is  also  of  great  importance,  more  especially 
at  this  season  of  the  intellectual  chaos,  that  the  fountain- 
heads  of  knowledge  should  be  under  proper  care,  and  that 
the  young  men  who  go  forth  by  hundreds  every  year  to  act 
in  their  several  callings,  should  be  duly  stored  with  sound 
principles.  Such  being  the  case,  I  think  it  may  fairly  be 
left  open  to  any  individual  to  select  that  sphere  of  the 
ministerial  duties  on  which  he  chooses  to  enter ;  supposing 
his  choice  be  regulated,  not  by  caprice  or  indolence,  but  by 
a  cr  1m  weighing  of  his  own  qualifications,  and  of  the  good 


SUNSHINE.  413 


he  is  likely  to  accomplish.  Now  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
task  I  am  engaged  in  is  of  all  others  the  one  I  am  best 
fitted  for,  by  such  talents  and  acquirements  as  I  possess ; 
and  little  as  may  be  the  good  I  do  here,  I  think  God  has 
so  constituted  me  that  I  might  do  more  good  here  than  I 
could  in  any  other  station.  At  the  same  time,  by  peculiarly 
fortunate  circumstances  of  time  and  place,  by  being  in  this 
glorious  college,  and  having  such  noble  contemporaries,  I 
am  most  singularly  blest.  Severa1  times  in  the  course  of 
last  summer,  in  conversing  with  persons  I  became  acquainted 
with,  and  hearing  them  speak  of  their  situation,  did  my 
heart  bound  with  gratitude  for  my  singularly  favoured  lot. 
It  would  be  a  sad  exchange  to  give  up  my  beautiful  rooms, 
my  friends  whose  converse  strengthens  and  steadies  my 
mind,  and  the  brother  of  my  heart,  Worsley,  whose  bright 
face  kindles  a  feeling  of  the  same  sort  in  me  every  time  he 
enters  my  room,  whose  step  is  so  gladdening  a  sound  on 
my  stairs,  for  the  dismal,  solitude  of  that  great,  big  house, 
with  not  even  a  cottage  within  half  a  mile  of  it,  and  not  a 
soul  nearer  than  my  friend  Townsend  at  Brighton,  with 
whom  I  should  have  a  thought  in  common.  I  speak  with 
the  utmost  sincerity,  when  I  say  I  do  not  think  I  should 
make  an  efficient  parish  priest.  I  know  not  what,  but  there 
is  an  incapacity  about  me  for  conversing  with  the  lower 
orders ;  part  of  it  may  be  constitutional ;  habit  may  have 
much  increased  it ;  the  very  nature  of  my  pursuits,  of  my 
studies  and  speculations,  withdraws  me  more  than  others 
from  the  commerce  of  ordinary  thought.  I  find  a  great 
difficulty  in  carrying  on  a  conversation  except  with  a  very 
few  of  my  friends  :  my  thoughts  don't  seem  to  move  in  the 
same  line  as  theirs  ;  my  views,  my  interests,  seem  to  be  so 
different ;  it  is  hard  to  find  a  point  of  union.  This  grows 
upon  me  year  by  year.  I  know  not  how  to  check  it ;  and  I 
fear  I  should  never  ge"  ever  it.  I  fear  I  should  never  learn 


414  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

to  talk  to  the  poor  as  they  ought  to  be  talked  to ;  in  time, 
perhaps,  I  might  learn  to  preach  to  them  ;  but  that  you 
know  is  a  very  small  part  of  what  a  parish  priest  has  to  do. 
Thank  you  again,  dearest  Maria,  for  your  very  kind,  sisterly 
letter.  I  have  tried  to  show  you  that  it  is  not  mere  selfish- 
ness that  makes  me  averse  to  exchange,  and  that  I  am  at  a 
post  where,  if  I  work  zealously,  I  shall  be  acting  the  part  of 
a  Christian  minister.  At  all  events,  you  will  see  that  it  is 
very,  very  questionable  whether  you  would  be  consulting 
my  happiness  in  placing  me  at  Hurstmonceaux;  and 
therefore  you  must  not  allow  such  a  notion  to  have  any 
weight  with  you  in  refusing  it." 

The  news  of  Mr.  Robert  Hare's  death  arrived  at  Alton 
on  the  zyth  of  February,  1832;  but,  before  that  time, 
having  obtained  the  consent  of  his  brother  Francis  to  the 
transfer,  Augustus  had  secured  the  promise  of  Julius  that 
he  would  accept  the  living  of  'Hurstmonceaux.  Both 
brothers  went  into  Sussex  to  attend  their  uncle's  funeral. 
Thence  Augustus  returned  happy  to  Alton,  and  Julius  made 
up  his  mind  to  leave  Cambridge,  but  decided  upon  spending 
a  year  in  Italy  before  entering  upon  the  duties  of  his  parish. 

M.  H.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"  Feb.  29,  1832. — The  eight  o'clock  coffee  is  just  finished 
— such  a  good  new  loaf,  pity  the  dear  master  is  not  here ! 
And  now  I  may  talk  to  the  dearest  Aug.  without  fear  of 
interruption.  He  knows  full  well  how  the  fountain  is  bub- 
bling up  at  the  very  thought  of  him,  and  how  ready  it  is  to 
pour  itself  over  on  the  paper.  I  should  like  to  know  where 
you  are  this  evening,  whether  at  some  dirty  inn,  or  at 
Julius's  Rectory.  God  be  with  you  wherever  you  are,  and 
watch  over  you,  and  bring  you  safe  back  to  the  loving  wifie, 


415 


the  dearest,  the  Mia.  I  think  she  cannot  ever  have  loved 
you  before  when  you  have  been  away.  It  was  only  make- 
believe.  Now  it  is  real,  if  there  is  reality  in  anything." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S/ 

"  Feb.  29,  1832.  —  You  will  guess  what  we  felt  on  Monday 
•when  the  packet  of  letters  came  in,  and  three  with  black 
seals  at  once  convinced  us  what  had  happened.  Certainly, 
the  first  sensation  was  joy,  to  think  that  everything  was 
settled,  and  that  there  was  no  longer  a  question  left  about 
our  leaving  Alton.  We  could  not  help  putting  ourselves  in 
a  different  situation,  and  fancying  what  we  should  have  felt 
had  it  been  otherwise  ;  and  I  think  Julius  would  have  been 
quite  satisfied  had  he  heard  us,  that  we  had  acted  for  our  own 
comfort.  I  daresay  with  the  additional  income  we  should 
not  have  been  able  to  do  half  so  much  for  our  people  there, 
and  so  much  would  have  had  to  be  spent  in  unprofitable 
ways  ;  and  when  we  were  vainly  striving  to  excite  some 
feeling  amongst  a  scattered  people  living  at  a  distance,  how 
often  should  we  have  thought  of  our  little  family  at  Alton 
with  regret  and  sorrow.  No  ;  I  am  quite  certain  we  have 
decided  for  our  own  happiness,  and,  hoping  as  we  do,-  that 
it  may  be  a  means  of  calling  forth  all  Julius's  power  for  the 
good  of  others,  I  cannot  think  we  have  been  wrong  in  fol- 
lowing our  own  inclinations." 

"March  13  (Sunday  men  ing).  —  This  has  been  so  beautiful 
a  day,  that  as  I  was  walking  about  the  fields  between  services, 
and  studying  my  afternoon's  lesson  for  the  children,  it  made 
me  seem  to  see  you  and  your  class  under  the  trees  on  those 
lovely  summer  Sundays  last  year.  I  do  love  a  fine  Sunday  ; 
it  seems  to  cheer  and  lighten  the  way  to  God's  house,  and 
fill  one's  heart  with  deeper  thoughtfulness,  to  know  all  alike 
can  enjoy  it;  and  the  dear  Augustus  was  so  earnest,  anc? 


416  MEMORIALS    OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

applied  his  subject  so  home,  that  I  do  trust  the  seed  might 
not  fall  quite  in  vain  on  some  hearts  present." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Alderley,  March  3,  1832. — I  do  hope,  dearest,  you  have 
indeed  chosen  best  for  your  own  happiness,  as  you  surely  have 
for  those  around  you ;  and  we  will  hope  that  Hurstmonceaux 
will  be  no  loser. .  .  .  Tell  Augustus,  that  when  I  read  the  letter 
which  fixed  him  at  Alton,  I  lit  a  large  bonfire  in  my  heart, 
round  which  all  the  old  men  and  women  and  little  boys  and 
girls  of  Alton  shouted  and  danced  for  joy. 

"  I  have  read  almost  all  Arnold's  '  Sermons,'  and  like 
them  much.  They  are  like  '  Watts's  Hymns  for  Children,' 
so  beautifully  simple,  yet  containing  all  the  deep  truths  of 
religion." 

JULIUS  HARE  to  M.  H. 

"  Trinity,  March  9,  1831. — Your  sisterly  letter  came  at  a 
time  when  it  was  most  acceptable ;  for,  finding  that  half 
measures,  as  usual,  were  good  for  nothing,  I  betook  myself 
to  my  bed  altogether  last  Friday,  determined  not  to  leave  it 
till  my  foot  had  regained  its  usual  dimensions.  You  will, 
perhaps,  tell  me  that  my  malady  was  sent  to  convince  me 
that  a  college  is  not  quite  such  an  Elysium  as  I  appeared  to 
fancy,  and  that,  at  all  events,  it  is  a  bad  place  to  be  ill  in.  To 
be  sure,  as  Worsley  is  not  here,  I  have  had  a  very  great  num- 
ber of  lonely  hours  these  last  three  weeks,  seldom  interrupted 
except  by  a  flying  visit  of  inquiry  or  two  ;  and  with  no 
great  aversion  to  solitude,  still,  not  being  in  a  plight  for 
hard-working,  I  should  not  have  been  sorry  to  have  heard  a 
little  more  of  the  human  voice.  The  letters  of  my  friends, 
however, — and  especially,  as  women  know  best  how  to  com- 
fort a  sick-bed,  or  my  female  friends, — have  supplied  me  with 


SUNSHINE.  417 


a  delightful  substitute  for  it ;  and  among  them,  yours  has 
chimed  in  very  sweetly  with  those  I  have  received  from 
Anna  and  Lady  Munro.  What  I  said  to  Augustus  will  have 
proved  to  you,  that  unless  he  has  changed  his  mind,  w-hich 
I  did  not  think  likely,  mine  is  made  up.  As  I  was  talking 
to  Thirlwall  on  the  subject  the  other  day,  and  speaking  of 
ray  happy  removal  hither,  and  of  the  well-spent  ten  years  I 
have  passed  here,  he  said,  '  Yes,  this  has  been  a  very 
pleasant  Purgatory ;  may  your  next  removal  be  to  a 
Paradise  1 '  This  struck  me  the  more,  superstitious  as  I  am, 
from  its  coincidence  with  the  expression  I  made  use  of  in 
my  letter  to  Augustus.  Be  this  however  as  it  may,  whether 
Hurstmonceaux  is  to  be  a  paradise  to  me  or  a  wilderness, 
or,  as  is  more  likely,  something  between  the  two — my  lot  is 
now  cast.  I  am  to  quit  this  goodly  college,  with  all  its 
goodly  inmates,  and  to  take  up  my  rest  there,  in  all  proba- 
bility for  life.  Indeed,  when  I  have  once  grown  familiar  to 
it,  I  think  hardly  anything  in  the  world  would  ever  induce 
one  to  leave  it.  I  agree  entirely  with  you,  that  '  a  life  of 
mere  literary  activity  is  not  all  that  is  required  from  a 
minister  of  Christ's  Church ; '  indeed,  for  my  own  part,  I  do 
not  think  a  life  of  mere  literary  activity  can  be  wholesome 
for  anybody,  it  ought  always  to  be  combined  more  or  less 
with  practical  activity.  If  I  were  not  engaged  in  tuition,  I 
would  grant  to  you  that  my  present  life  is  not  suited  to  my 
profession ;  but,  by  the  practice  of  our  Church,  as  well  as  that 
of  the  Roman  Catholic,  the  education  of  youth  has  been  con- 
signed almost  exclusively  to  the  clergy;  nor  do  I  think  it 
xit  all  desirable  that  the  clergy  who  are  employed  in  this 
task  should  combine  it  with  the  cure  of  souls.  That  this 
practice  of  committing  education  to  the  clergy  is  wise  and 
.wholesome,  I  do  not  think  you  will  deny  :  if  you  do,  I  will 
leave  Augustus  to  prove  to  you  that  it  is  so ;  but  this  you  leave 
wholly  out  of  sight  in  your  objections  to  my  merely  literarv 

VOL.  I.  E  E 


41 8  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

life.  The  question  then  ought  to  be,  there  being  these  two 
posts  for  a  clergyman  to  fill,  for  which  I  am  the  fittest, 
naturally  and  by  my  acquirements  ?  1  fear  such  a  question 
must  be  answered  in  favour  of  my  staying  where  I  am,  so 
that  I  have  many  scruples  of  conscience  to  mingle  with  my 
numerous  personal  regrets.  However,  as  it  is  the  sad 
wedding  that  makes  the  happy  marriage,  so  he  who  feels  no 
pain  at  leaving  one  home,  is  never  likely  to  find,  and  in- 
deed does  not  deserve,  to  find  another.  Happy  are  they 
who  discover  objects  of  interest  and  attachment  wheresoever 
it  pleases  God  to  place  them ;  and  I  believe  He  has  blest 
me  with  the  power  of  doing  so  in  rather  more  than  an 
ordinary  degree. 

"  It  was  singular  that  it  was  only  on  the  Saturday  night  J 
sent  to  Thirlwall  the  last  page  of  our  second  volume  of 
'  Niebuhr,'  containing  our  little  prefatory  note,  and  on 
the  Sunday  morning  I  heard  of  my  uncle's  death.  But 
there  is  still  a  third  volume  to  come ;  and  I  am  already  en- 
gaged in  the  Philological  Museum,  which,  though  I  trust  it 
will  not  stop,  will  hardly  go  on  so  well  when  I  am  removed 
from  its  immediate  superintendence ;  yet  I  should  be  sorry 
to  see  it  discontinued,  now  that,  after  having  been  so  many 
years  projecting  it,  I  have  at  length  started  it,  and  in  such 
flourishing  plight.  Perhaps  Thirlwall  will  undertake  some 
portion  of  the  editorial  cares,  as,  I  rejoice  to  say,  he  is  to 
succeed  me  as  lecturer,  and  probably  in  my  rooms,  unless 
Whewell  does  so,  so  that  I  shall  have  a  rich  fulfilment  of 
that  noble  prayer :  '  May  my  successors  be  worthier  and 
better  than  I.'  However,  while  these  rooms  are  still  mine, 
you  must  positively  come  and  see  them.  I  should  like  to 
have  the  leaves  out  when  you  are  here,  so  that  you  may  see 
my  avenue  in  its  beauty ;  and  I  should  like  too,  if  possible, 
to  manage  that  you  should  be  here  with  Lady  Munro." 


SUNSHINE.  419 


M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"Alton,  March  19,  1832. — I  have  enjoyed  a  little  visit  to 
Oxford  much,  partly  because  I  saw  so  many  people  that  it 
was  pleasant  both  to  see  and  hear,  and  partly  from  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  the  dear  Aug.  so  pleased.  Many  of 
the  people  you  will  not  care  to  hear  about.  They  were 
interesting  to  me  chiefly  from  having  for  many  years  been 
associated  with  Augustus,  and  from  the  interest  they  seemed 
to  feel  in  seeing  him  again.  But  there  were  one  or  two 
people  that  I  wished  for  you  to  see  and  hear  with  me.  One 
was  Mr.  Pusey,  the  Hebrew  Professor.  I  had  a  good  deal 
of  conversation  with  him,  and  was  much  delighted  with  his 
extreme  goodness  and  modesty.  All  he  said  about  the 
poor,  about  a  country  clergyman's  life,  of  which  he  spoke 
with  envy,  was  so  right  feeling,  and  his  manner  was  so 
encouraging,  that  I  felt  as  if  I  could  have  said  anything  to 
him  ;  there  was  truly  in  him  the  humility  of  deep  learning. 
He  talked  to  Augustus  about  Neander,  with  whom  he  had 
lived  as  much  as  he  could  when  in  Germany,  and  said  it 
was  of  such  as  him  he  was  thinking  when  he  praised  the 
theologians  of  Germany,  and  not  of  the  Rosenmiillers,  &c., 
whom  he  had  been  accused  of  favouring. 

"  Another  person,  not  less  interesting,  Augustus  took  me 
to  call  upon — Blanco  White.  He  is  sadly  out  of  health,  and 
was  walking  up  and  down  his  little  room,  wrapt  in  a  great 
cloak,  and  complained  of  being  unable  to  do  anything. 
However,  after  a  little  time  he  got  animated,  and  forgot  his 
grievances.  At  first  his  good  English  would  make  one 
forget  he  was  not  an  Englishman,  but  by  degrees  the 
foreigner  showed  itself  in  the  cast  of  countenance,  action, 
and,  when  animated,  by  a  little  hesitation  in  bringing  out 
his  words.  He  spoke  of  the  work  he  is  now  writing  on  the 
Inquisition,  and  said  he  had  been  tracing  the  origin  of  it  in 
persecution  up  to  the  times  of  Theodosius,  but  he  said  it 


42O  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

was  very  painful  and  irritating  to  his  feelings  dwelling  upon 
it.  '  They  are  not  dead,  these  old  fathers ;  they  are  every 
one  of  them  living.  I  see  them  all.'  He  talked  a  good 
deal  of  Whately,  who  was  a  great  friend  of  his ;  and  then 
got  upon  the  signs  of  the  times,  and  that  he  thought 
everything  was  at  work  for  a  change,  and  of  course  in  the 
struggle,  evil  must  be  produced,  and  would  perhaps  for  a 
iime  seem  to  overbalance  the  good,  but  he  had  a  confident 
hope  good  would  prevail — just  as  a  body  in  a  state  of  fer- 
mentation appeared  to  be  in  one  of  decomposition ;  that  the 
error  of  the  present  interpreters  of  Prophecy  seemed  to  him 
of  the  same  nature  with  that  of  the  old  Jews,  when  they 
looked  forward  to  the  temporal  kingdom  of  Messiah  on 
earth.  There  was  a  remarkable  mildness  and  suavity  of 
manner  mixed  up  with  his  energy,  reminding  one  of  the 
Spanish  priest,  whilst  his  evident  sincerity  and  enlightened 
views  showed  how  he  had  broken  through  the  bondage. 

"  Living  in  a  college  seems  to  me  much  like  living  in  a 
magnificent  prison,  being  surrounded  by  such  high  walls, 
but  the  Warden  of  New  College  has  a  very  good  house,  and 
it  is  pleasant  being  there.  I  think,  on  the  whole,  my  im- 
pression of  Oxford  was  even  much  more  favourable  than  I 
had  expected ;  that  there  certainly  are  a  great  many  who 
are  very  excellent  and  labouring  to  do  good,  whilst  many 
who  sometime  ago  would  have  been  content  with  the  form 
of  godliness,  are  by  degrees  being  leavened  with  a  much 
larger  portion  of  its  spirit? 

A.  W.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"March  25,  1832. — The  dear  Luce  will  probably  like  to 
hear  a  little  about  our  Fast  and  Feast.  We  got  back  from 
Oxford  just  in  time  to  allow  of  my  preparing  a  sermon  on 
Lev.  xxiii.  27,  as  a  kind  of  preface  to  Wednesday's  service. 
Monday  and  Tuesday  passed  much  like  other  days,  except 


SUNSHINE.  421 


that  two  of  the  farmers  told  their  men  they  should  be  paid 
for  a  day's  no-work  on  the  Fast-day,  provided  they  came  to 
church,  and  kept  away  from  the  beer-shops.  How  many 
came  for  this  promised  pay,  and  how  many  from  a  right 
feeling,  I  know  not — though  from  the  interest  which  they 
manifested  about  the  Fast,  I  hope  and  trust  the  right  motive 
predominated.  But,  between  the  two,  the  church  was  filled 
fuller  than  it  has  ever  been  in  my  recollection,  excepting  on 
the  first  Good-Friday  after  our  coming  to  Alton.  Unluckily, 
I  was  rather  out  of  voice  ;  however,  by  the  help  of  singing 
'a  hymn  proper  for  the  day,'  I  got  through  my  long  service; 
and,  during  the  sermon,  the  interest  gave  me  back  my 
lungs  again.  The  text  (I  know  you  like  such  little  par- 
ticulars) was  from  Luke  xxi.  34 — 36.  The  subject  was  first 
an  exposition  of  the  chapter,  and  its  division  into  its  main 
parts,  namely,  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  tread- 
ing down  of  the  Jews  till  the  times  of  the  Gentiles  are 
fulfilled ;  the  signs  which  are  to  intervene  between  the 
fulfilling  of  those  days  and  the  coming  to  judgment ;  and  the 
practical  lesson  which  the  text  affords  of  the  conduct  to  be 
pursued  by  us,  if  we  would  not  be  taken  unawares.  The 
practical  lesson,  of  course,  formed  the  main  part,  in  its  two 
branches  of  drunkenness  on  the  one  hand  and  worldly  cares 
on  the  other,  and  I  never  saw  the  people  more  attentive. 
Our  Fast  was  kept  on  vegetables,  the  servants  abstaining 
voluntarily  from  dressing  meat  for  themselves  as  well  as  for 
us.  In  the  evening  I  had  a  supplementary  lecture  in  the 
barn ;  so  passed  the  day.  And  then  came  the  Feast.  There 
had  been  all  sorts  of  consultations  ;  what  should  be 
ordered  ?  and  who  should  be  asked  ?  But  we  will  suppose 
them  well  over — the  ox's  head  and  skin  for  soup,  and  the 
cut  of  the — I  forget  what — for  boiling,  safely  brought  into 
the  larder ;  and  the  guests  invited  ;  and  Mary  busy  pre- 
paring the  savoury  viands.  '  But  where  is  the  suet  for  the 


422  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

puddings?  It  is  two  o'clock.  Very  odd  of  that  butcher 
disappointing  mistress.  Betty  Perry,  step  over  to  All 
Cannings,  and  see  why  they  have  not  sent  it  ? '  Thus  spake 
the  careful  Mary,  but  the  assisting  Betty  did  not  disobey 
her  word,  but  she  stept  forth,  and  stept,  too,  pretty  hastily, 
for  she  was  back  again  from  All  Cannings  in  an  hour  and 
a  quarter  with  the  long-expected  suet :  so  active  are  people 
when  they  go  upon  their  own  errands,  and  serve  with  a 
ready  will.  We  had  Majendie  to  dine  with  us,  and  J. 
Sloper,  too,  rode  over,  which  made  us  a  large  party  in 
the  drawing-room  waiting  the  announcing  of  the  com- 
pany. And  now  the  door  opens,  and  John  says,  '  Please, 
ma'am,  they  are  all  come ; '  and  the  dear  wine  has  put  on 
her  cloak,  and  we  are  all  gone  together  into  the  barn, 
where,  ranged  on  the  two  sides  of  the  long  table  are  stand- 
ing— three  old  Kings,  and  old  Hailstone,  and  old  Perry, 
and  old  Hams  and  John  Swanborough,  and  Becky  King 
and  her  good  man  with  the  large  appetite  and  weeping 
eyes,  and  Hannah  Baillie,  and  Sally  Browne,  eleven  in  all. 
And  at  the  top  and  bottom  of  the  said  table  were  tureens 
of  good,  rich,  substantial  broth  ;  with  Sloper  at  one  end,  and 
the  Master  at  the  other,  to  help  the  same.  And  now  the 
Master  has  said  grace,  and  the  standers  have  become  sitters, 
and  the  spoons  are  in  full  activity;  and  Majendie  and  the 
dear  wife  and  Mary  are  waiting  upon  the  full-mouthed 
guests.  And  they  are  all  looking  very  happy,  and  saying 
that  this  will  be  a  day  to  talk  of,  and  drinking  our  good 
health,  as  the  sober  mug  of  beer  is  set  before  them.  After 
the  broth  came  the  beef,  and  then  the  puddings,  which  I 
think  were  the  favourite  part  of  the  feast ;  and  then  another 
grace,  and  we  are  once  more  in  the  drawing-room,  pleased 
at  having  been  able,  and  with  how  very  little  money  and 
kindness  and  attention,  to  please  so  many  of  our  people. 
And  so,  having  finished  my  story,  what  remains  but  to  wis/ 


SUNSHINE.  423 


the  dear  Luce  good-bye,  and  to  commend  ourselves  and  our 
parishes  to  her  prayers. 

"  (M.  H.)  The  dear  Master's  report  will  not  preclude  my 
say,  lor  he  has  not  told  what  two  dear,  appropriate  graces 
he  uttered  before  and  after  the  Feast,  nor  how  the  old  men 
raised  up  their  hands  together  as  he  said  them,  and  prayed 
for  a  blessing  both  on  the  receivers  and  givers,  and  joined  in 
their  hearty  amen ;  nor  has  he  told  that  of  the  remnants  six 
families  have  had  an  abundant  meal  sent  home  to  them  to- 
day. You  may  fancy  the  delight  the  dear  Aug.  took  in  his 
evening ;  and  I  scarcely  ever  felt  more  thankfulness,  more 
love,  not  for  the  dear  people,  nor  for  the  precious  husband 
but  for  Him  who  gives  the  means  and  inspires  the  will. 
How  I  wished  for  you  on  Wednesday.  You  would  have 
liked  the  sermon  much,  and  would  have  spent  the  day  to 
your  heart's  desire.  The  chief  part  of  the  sermon  was 
urging  the  necessity  of  making  the  day  a  symbol  of  our 
future  life  by  greater  self-denial,  more  continual  prayer,  and 
deeper  humiliation,  that  it  might  not  pass  away  in  a  few 
hours'  service,  and  that  perhaps  lip-service,  but  in  a  real 
fast  of  the  heart. 

"  April  i. — We  have,  though  not  as  yet  actual  death, 
dangerous  sickness  before  our  eyes  just  now,  and  our  last 
two  days  have  been  taken  up  almost  entirely  by  attending 
three  sick-beds.  One  of  them  is  at  Stanton,  whither  in 
Mr.  Majendie's  absence  they  sent  for  Augustus  yesterday 
morning,  to  a  poor  sick-boy  of  seventeen,  who  had  had 
a  horrible  accident  ;  falling  from  a  hay-cart  on  the  sharp 
teeth  of  a  harrow,  which  went  in  through  his  back  four 
inches,  and  of  course  his  torments  were  excruciating.  Both 
times  when  Augustus  went  yesterday  he  was  scarce  able 
to  speak,  except  in  ejaculations  of  '  Lord,  have  mercy 
on  me ! '  but  his  father's  account  was  very  touching, 
how  he  had  prayed,  and  how  he  had  warned  him  about 


424  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

his  future  life ;  and  once,  when  he  woke  from  a  doze, 
he  said  '  Father,  I  have  been  a  long  way.  I  saw  in  my 
dream  a  great  hill,  and  there  was  a  narrow  path  up  it,  and 
I  wanted  to  go  along  it,  but  there  were  so  many  bushes  on 
both  sides  I  could  not  get  along,  and  I  saw  Christ  at  the 
top  calling  me  to  him,  but  I  could  not  get  to  him  till  He 
held  out  his  hand  and  helped  me.'  Is  not  this  a  singular 
and  touching  story?  The  father  never  left  him,  while 
the  mother  and  sister  were  going  on,  unconcerned,  with 
their  work  below  stairs,  only  seeming  to  grieve  over  the  loss 
of  the  father's  day's  work. 

"  Of  our  own  two  cases,  one  is  the  blacksmith's  daughter, 
a  young  pretty  girl  of  sixteen,  who  lived  with  Miss  Miller 
as  servant,  and  came  home  a  few  days  ago  with  constant 
sickness,  which  has  now  turned  to  inflammation  on  the 
brain,  and  I  can  hardly  think  there  is  a  chance  for  her. 
She  was  quite  insensible  herself  to-day,  but  after  helping 
to  hold  her  whilst  the  doctor  bled  her  for  the  third  time. 
Augustus  and  I  knelt  down  with  the  poor  afflicted  father 
and  sister,  and  he  prayed  for  her  and  for  them,  and  more 
sincere  prayers,  I  am  sure,  were  never  uttered.  Augustus 
could  hardly  get  through  them,  much  less  wish  them  good- 
day  afterwards.  Our  other  patient,  poor  James  Powell, 
is  nearly  in  the  same  state,  and  I  believe  from  the 
same  cause — inflammation  on  the  brain.  Both  these 
cases  show  how  vain  is  the  hope  of  administering 
spiritual  comfort  even,  and  much  less  spiritual  instruc- 
tion, in  dangerous  illness.  Neither  of  them  could  even 
join  in  the  prayers,  but  for  the  survivors  it  is  a  call  that 
may  not  be  in  vain,  and  some  words  uttered  in  such 
moments,  when  sorrow  has  opened  the  heart,  may  go  home 
with  God's  blessing  on  them.  You  may  suppose  how 
wretched  poor  Avis  Powell  is  ;  and  really  here,  where  we 
live  so  much  amongst  and  with  the  people,  two  such  case:; 


SUNSHINE.  425 


of  affliction  throw  quite  a  sadness  over  everything.  I 
suppose  were  we  oftener  summoned  to  sucji  scenes,  the 
heart  would  grow  in  some  degree  hardened  to  them,  but 
we  have  had  so  few  of  them,  that  Augustus  was  quite  worn 
by  the  feelings  they  excited.  Poor  Prudence  I  feel  the 
more  interested  for,  because  she  has  all  winter  been  one  of 
my  Tuesday's  confirmation  class,  and  seemed  to  take  such 
interest,  and  be  so  grateful  for  all  I  taught  her :  she  ap- 
peared to  be  a  thoroughly  good  girl,  and  perhaps  to  one  in 
her  rank  of  life  this  may  be  taking  her  away  from  the  evil  to 
come.  When  the  poor  have  strong  feelings,  it  is  the  more 
touching,  because  they  come  out  so  naturally,  and  the 
father's  hard  features,  moistened  by  tears,  following  so 
anxiously  to  know  what  one  thought  of  his  '  darling '  (so 
he  called  her),  and  so  resigned  to  think  it  was  best  if  God 
did  take  her,  were  very  hard  to  hear  unmoved.  We  have 
just  sent  John  off  to  Pewsey  (eight  o'clock),  to  carry  the 
last  news  of  the  poor  patients  to  the  doctor.  Augustus  is 
about  his  sermon — '  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death,' — and  I  have  tried  to  make  you 
present  with  us  by  setting  before  you  the  subject  of  our 
thoughts  and  employment  to-day  and  yesterday.  In  re- 
turning from  such  sick-beds,  how  grateful  do  I  feel  that 
hitherto  God  has  in  mercy  spared  us  such  anguish.  When- 
ever the  time  comes,  as  come  it  must,  when  we  too  shall  be 
tried,  we  shall  have  your  prayers,  dearest  Luce,  and  He 
who  is  our  rock  and  fortress  will  be  with  us  and  support  us 
through  every  storm. 

"  Sunday  Evening. — This  morning  Augustus  sent  Gideon 
off  to  Devizes  for  Dr.  Brabant,  that  nothing  might  be  left 
undone ;  and  he  came  whilst  we  were  at  church,  and  pro- 
nounced both  cases  to  be  utterly  hopeless.  Poor  James  is 
not  so  insensible  as  Prudence,  but  only  seems  occasionally 
to  recognise  those  around  him.  When  Avis  said  to  him  to 


426  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

day,  '  Do  you  hear  Mr.  Hare  praying  by  you,  James  ? '  he 
muttered,  '  I  shall  soon  hear  more  than  I  have  ever  done 
yet ! '  but  generally  he  appears  quite  unconscious  of  who  is 
there,  and  only  holds  up  his  hands,  as  if  praying  inwardly, 
You  may  suppose  how  solemn  a  day  this  has  been  with  us 
all ;  how  my  first  class  wept  over  their  dying  companion 
as  I  touched  upon  her  state  to  them;  how  Augustus  alluded 
in  his  sermon  to  the  two  cases  of  extreme  sickness,  and  be- 
sought all  to  be  ready ;  and  how  many  tears  were  called  forth. 
If  anything  can  touch  those  hitherto  careless,  surely  death, 
when  it  calls  the  young  and  healthy  and  the  stout  and  robust, 
as  James  was  a  year  ago,  must  preach  most  powerfully. 

"April  17. — Two  hours  ago  I  watched  the  remains  of  poor 
Prudence  consigned  to  the  grave — ashes  to  ashes.  It  was 
such  a  lovely  evening,  and  the  view  of  the  hills  above  the 
little  cottages  from  Great  Alton  churchyard  in  the  still 
evening  light,  with  Augustus  standing  over  the  grave,  read- 
ing those  fine  words,  and  the  group  of  people  all  round, 
sobbing  their  responses,  was  truly  a  sight  not  to  be 
forgotten.  I  do  not  wonder  at  the  effect  of  field  preaching. 
There  is  a  solemnity  in  the  scene  where  the  sky  is  above 
one  and  nature  all  round,  that  is  far  above  the  most 
hallowed  aisle.  It  is  an  affecting  sight  to  see  a  young 
maiden  borne  as  this  was  by  young  men,  and  the  white 
sheet  carried  over  the  bier  by  eight  young  girls  all  dressed 
in  white,  with  white  hoods  over  their  bonnets.  In  this  case 
also  the  bearers  were  true  mourners,  and  wept  bitterly  over 
the  loss  of  their  companion,  and  besides  her  own  family, 
there  was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  church,  which  was  nearly 
full  of  people.  Augustus  took  the  opportunity,  and  in  a 
few  touching  words,  after  the  lesson  i5th  Cor.  was  ended, 
addressed  the  congregation  assembled.  Pointing  to  the 
coffin  where  lay  the  body  of  her  who  one  little  fortnight 
since  looked  forward  to  life  with  as  much  confidence  as  the 


SUNSHINE.  427 


healthiest  amongst  us,  and  who  was  now  called  away  almost 
ere  she  had  entered  life,  he  said  how  only  two  days  before 
he  had  been  called  upon  *x>  perform  the  same  office  over  a 
man  in  the  prime  of  life.  He  was  cut  off  without  more 
time  for  preparation  than  this  delicate  flower  which  had 
scarcely  blossomed.  Could  any  one  say  that  the  summons 
would  not  call  him  next  ?  Could  any  trust  that  he  should 
have  longer  warning  granted  ?  Could  any  feel  that  he  was 
ready  ?  Which  did  they  think  of  the  hours  spent  by  this 
young  girl  did  she  now  look  back  upon  with  most  pleasure 
and  delight, — those  spent  in  idleness  and  wasted  in  folly, 
or  those  devoted  to  her  God  ?  Be  it  then  our  care  so  to 
pass  our  days  here,  that  when,  like  her,  our  earthly  forms 
are  laid  in  a  narrow  box,  we  may  look  back  on  hours  of 
piety  and  devotion,  and  that  no  dreams  of  wickedness  may 
disturb  our  rest.  Something  to  this  effect  was  said.  Then 
as  we  went  out  of  church  he  spoke  a  few  words  of  comfort  to 
the  poor  afflicted  sisters  and  brothers  and  father.  'Re- 
member, my  good  friends,  that  those  who  sow  in  tears 
shall  reap  in  joy.'  The  mother  was  too  ill  to  attend  the 
funeral,  a  great  sorrow  to  her,  poor  thing,  for  they  consider 
these  things  so  much.  Her  grief  is  very  touching,  for  it  is  I 
am  sure  hallowed  by  the  true  source  of  comfort.  She  kept 
up  as  long  as  life  remained,  and  never  left  her  darling's  bed, 
watching  her  with  such  intensity,  never  heeding  my  going 
in,  but  addressing  to  the  poor  unconscious  girl  such  words 
as  these — '  Yes,  you  are  going  to  be  a  blessed  angel  in 
heaven  with  your  dear  Saviour,  are  you  not,  my  child  ? ' 
Both  she  and  poor  James  died  the  same  day.  It  was  or 
Sunday  evening  that  we  followed  him  to  his  last  home 
Avis  and  her  five  children  were  there.  His  illness  had 
excited  great  interest  amongst  his  fellow-labourers,  and  God 
grant  tbat  the  softened  hearts  which  shed  so  many  tears  as 
his  body  was  consigned  to  the  grave,  may  bear  in  mind  that 


428  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

they  like  him  may  at  the  last  have  no  time  for  making  their 
peace  with  God.  The  4oth  Psalm  was,  by  his  own  desire, 
sung  during  the  funeral  service,  and  a  hymn  over  his  grave. 
....  These  to  others  might  seem  trifling  details,  but 
you  will  be  interested  in  them,  knowing  how  we  live  as  one 
family  with  our  people,  and  really  the  last  week  these  two 
families  have  excited  all  our  interest  and  sympathy.  I 
quite  longed  for  you  at  the  funeral — to  stand  with  me  by 
my  earthly  treasure,  and  pray  for  me  that  strength  of  faith 
and  love  may  be  ours  daily  more  and  more  till  we  are 
called  hence  too.  I  think  I  could  have  stayed  by  Prudence 
as  I  saw  her  this  morning  in  her  coffin  for  hours, — she  looked 
so  calm,  so  peaceful,  and  there  is  something  so  mysterious 
in  death.  Is  it  not  curious  that  my  last  lesson  to  her  was 
that  very  chapter  of  Cor.  xv." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Alderley,  April  13,  1832. — By  this  time,  I  think,  poor 
James  Powell  can  be  no  longer  one  of  your  living  congre- 
gation, but,  if  he  is  gone  to  God,  if  he  should  be  the  first 
shock  of  corn  gathered  from  the  little  field  given  in  charge 
to  Augustus,  we  may  now  see  how  his  illness  of  last 
summer  was  sent  to  prepare  his  soul  for  its  long  journey. 
How  well  I  remember  Augustus  telling  us  one  day,  after 
one  of  his  visits  there,  that  he  had  been  teaching  him — '  I 
must  work  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me  whilst  it  is  day — 
the  night  cometh  when  no  man  can  work,'  and  how  much 
struck  he  seemed  with  it.  The  night  has  soon  come  to 
him ;  God  grant  it  prove  to  him  eternal  day.  Tell  Avis, 
with  my  best  comfort,  I  prayed  for  her  and  her  family  this 
morning,  and  send  her  this  verse  from  which  every  Christian 
family  may  take  comfort.  '  Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  I 
will  preserve  them  alive,  and  let  thy  widow  trust  in  me.' 
Since  I  left  Alton,  I  have  been  so  daily  in  the  habit  of 


SUNSHINE.  429 


following  you  in  all  your  known  and  fancied  pursuits,  that  I 
feel  as  much  with  you  in  all  you  tell  me,  as  if  I  was  really 
there.  During  prayers,  I  have  so  often  found  myself  walk- 
ing up  the  hill  towards  that  white  cottage.  I  used  to  carry 
so  light  a  heart  up  that  dazzling  hill.  I  do  not  think  the 
happiness  of  any  one  creature  was  ever  so  thoroughly  felt 
by  another,  as  yours  by  me.  Everything  you  speak  of,  joy 
or  sorrow,  hope  or  fear,  I  instantly  see  reflected  in  my  own 
heart ;  and  I  do  feel  it  a  blessing  that  the  never-failing  friend 
of  my  early  life  has  a  husband,  whom  to  know  well,  is  to 
love.  I  cannot  in  the  least  describe  the  effect  knowing  him 
has  on  my  mind — the  sort  of  effect  that  it  is  to  the  eye, 
looking  out  on  a  landscape  through  an  orange-coloured 
glass  window,  that  makes  everything  look  sunny." 

JULIUS  HARE  to  M.  H. 

"  Trinity,  April  4,  1832. — Alas,  what  sad  tidings  the 
papers  contain !  The  mightiest  spirit  that  this  earth  has 
seen,  since  Shakespeare  left  it,  is  departed.  But  he  departed 
just  like  himself,  in  the  perfect  healthful  possession  of  all 
his  faculties,  as  a  man  who  has  fulfilled  the  duties  of  the 
day,  and  falls  into  calm  sleep  after  it :  and  even  his  last 
moments  were  moments  of  enjoyment,  he  was  just  express- 
ing the  pleasure  he  felt  in  the  genial  warmth  of  the  spring. 
What  a  pleasure  it  would  be  to  possess  the  arm-chair  in 
which  Goethe  closed  his  eyes,  after  having  gazed  on  all 
that  this  world  could  produce,  and  behold,  '  to  him  it  was 
very  good,'  and  I  doubt  not  that  to  the  very  last  moments 
he  felt  the  truth  of  his  favourite  stanza  : — 

'  Liegt  dir  gestem  klar  und  offen, 

Wirkst  du  heute  froh  und  frei ; 
Kannst  auch  auf  ein  morgen  hoffen, 

Das  nicht  minder  gliicklich  sey.' 


43°  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Dear,  glorious  old  man,  would  I  had  seen  him  before  he 
was  taken  away ;  would  I  had  heard  his  voice,  and  beheld 
the  calm  majesty  of  his  face. 

"What  if — the  thought  has  just  struck  me — we  erect  a 
joint  Hare  monument  to  our  mother  and  aunt  in  Hurstmon- 
ceaux  church  ?  That  would  be  appropriately  a  Hare  monu- 
ment ;  and  I  think  it  seems  likely  to  be  the  place  with  which 
we  are  to  be  most  intimately  connected,  and  if  there  is  to  be 
another  generation  of  us,  we  may  teach  them  to  venerate 
the  two  blessed  sisters,  our  double  mother." 

On  April  25,  the  news  of  Marcus  Hare's  return  to 
England  reached  Alton,  and  the  rector  left  for  Plymouth 
the  next  day  to  meet  him  and  preach  on  board  the 
Southampton,  the  admiral's  flag-ship,  to  the  commander- 
ship  of  which  his  brother  had  lately  been  appointed.  He 
rejoined  his  wife  at  Sheen,  and  they  afterwards  went 
together  to  pay  their  long-promised  visit  to  Julius  at 
Cambridge. 

A.  W.  H.  to  M.  H. 

"  Devonport,  May,  1832. — Marcus  says  that  when  the 
Crocodile  sailed  for  Sydney,  they  left  one  of  the  crew  in 
hospital  there,  with  a  dog  that  was  much  attached  to  him. 
On  they  sailed,  and  no  one  thought  any  more  of  the  man, 
till  one  night  the  sentinel  came  to  the  officer  on  watch 
while  they  were  off  Van  Dieman's  Land — '  Very  strange, 

sir,  but  M has  just  walked  up  the  gangway,  and  his  dog 

with  him.'     Then  came  one  of  the  seamen — 'A  curious 

thing  has  happened,  sir ;  I  saw  M just  now  standing 

between  these  two  guns.'  The  seaman  said  nothing  about 
the  dog,  and  there  had  been  no  communication  between 
him  and  the  sentinel.  This  became  the  common  talk  of 


SUNSHINE.  431 


the  ship,  and  they  found  on  their  arrival  at  Sydney  that  the 
man  had  been  buried  the  evening  he  was  seen,  and,  what  is 
a  curious  coincidence,  the  dog  had  been  missing  at  the  time 
for  two  or  three  days.  This  last  fact  was  mentioned  by 
Colonel  Lindsay,  in  whose  hospital  the  seaman  had  died, 
and  who  came  on  board  to  inquire  into  the  story, — it  had 
been  so  much  talked  of." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"May  3,  1832. — Have  I  not  followed  you  closely,  my 
Mia,  all  through  this  last  week  ?  Did  I  not  see  Augustus 
open  the  letter,  and  give  the  jump  ?  and  did  you  not  hear 
me  wish  him  joy  of  the  arrival  of  'the  dear  Marcus,'  whom 
I  have  heard  him  speak  so  much  of?  and  did  I  not  see  you 
sending  him  off  to  Plymouth,  trying  to  persuade  yourself  to 
get  through  a  few  days  without  him,  which  I  will  give  you 
full  credit  for  having  managed  very  ill  ?  " 

M.  H.'s  DIARY. 

11  May  12.— To  Cambridge.  Trinity  College.  Dr.  Whe- 
well  to  dinner. 

"  May  13. — Sunday.  Sermon,  Professor  Scholefield  and 
Mr.  Rose.  To  the  Marchesa  Spineto. 

"  May  14. — Mr.  Kenelm  Digby  to  breakfast.  To 
Babraham.  Dinner  in  Julius's  rooms.  Thirlwall,  Rose's, 
Spineto's  Whewell,  Romilly,  Air/s. 

"May  15. — Library.  King's  College  Chapel.  Dined 
Thirlwall's. 

"May  1 6. — Breakfasted  Mr.  Rose.  Called  Marchesa 
Spineto.  Mr.  Landor  to  dinner.  Dined  Marchesa's. 

"May  17. — Mr.  Sedgwicks.  Luncheon  Marchesa's. 
Dinner  WhewelFs,  Professor  Smythe,  Rose's,  &c. 

"May  1 8.— Left  Cambridge." 


432  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

I..  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  May  n,  1832. — I  have  been  looking  in  Heber's  journal 
for  all  he  says  of  Lady  Munro.  How  highly  he  speaks  of 
her,  and  the  estimation  in  which  she  was  held,  also  her 
beauty  and  pleasing  manners.  She  must  be  the  most 
likely  person  possible  for  Julius  to  like.  You  would  like  to 
have  such  a  sister — and  one  who  knew  Reginald,  too,  in 
India.  Now,  dearest,  I  have  written  enough  to  show  that 
I  think  of  my  darlings  when  they  are  absent  from  their 
cage,  but  shall  much  congratulate  them  when  they  hop  into 
it  again,  and  the  song  is  sung,  and  the  perch  returned 
to," 

" Aldcrky,  May  26,  1832. — At  this  moment  you  are 
returning  to  Alton,  and  are,  perhaps,  descending  Bull's  long 
hill — oh,  no,  I  forgot,  you  come  the  other  way — or  you 
may  be  just  turning  in  through  the  gateway,  or  standing  at 
the  drawing-room  window,  feeling,  I  need  not  tell  you  how, 
while  the  Aug.  is  gone  to  visit  his  pig,  and  his  cow,  and 
his  meadow,  and  now  you  may,  for  a  while,  forget  the  king- 
dom full  of  troubles,  and  lead  the  life  you  best  love.  I 
could  scarcely  be  more  with  you  at  present  than  I  am  in 
fancy  this  evening,  and  Mary  is  rejoicing,  and  Brute  is  sitting 
erect  for  joy,  and  the  quince-tree  is  in  full  leaf,  ready  for 
another  swarm  of  bees. 

"  I  mean  this  letter  to  get  to  you  on  the  2nd  of  June. 
How  I  shall  be  with  you  on  that  day  I  need  not  say.  I 
shall  creep  after  you  to  the  study,  go  through  the  service 
with  you  as  you  read  it  with  your  dear  husband,  then  collect 
the  flowers  in  Mrs.  Pile's  garden,  and  get  the  table  ready 
for  the  children.  I  shall  not  long  to  be  with  you ;  but  be 
happier  thinking  of  you  at  a  distance  than  I  was — present 
— last  year,  for  then,  oh  how  much  less  I  loved  you  both 
than  I  do  now. 


SUNSHINE.  433 


M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Alton,  May  26,  1832. — I  have  no  need  to  say  one  word 
of  description  to  my  dearest  Luce.  On  many  an  evening 
as  lovely  as  this  have  you  sat  out  with  me  on  the  little 
peaceful  grass-plat,  and  listened  to  the  blackbirds,  and 
enjoyed  the  extreme  quiet  and  shade  of  our  little  home. 
On  many  such  an  evening  have  you  walked  up  the  toilsome 
hill,  and  sucked  in  greedily  the  little  breezes  of  fresh  air 
that  met  one  at  the  top;  and  then,  when  we  had  come 
down  the  green  path  of  the  corn-field,  we  called  in  at  Brown's 
cottage,  and  found  John  with  prayer-book  or  Bible  in  his 
hand,  and  said  a  few  words  of  comfort  to  poor  Mary.  Just  so 
have  the  dear  Aug.  and  I  spent  this  delightful  close  of  a 
summer's  day,  and  often  does  it  make  me  think  of  you,  to 
return  so  exactly  to  the  blessed  days  of  last  year,  only 
wanting  you  to  enjoy  them  with  us.  Nor  did  we  the  less 
miss  you  as  we  drove  along  the  lanes  yesterday  evening  in 
the  Dull  carriage,  and  I  could  almost  have  fancied  you 
seated  in  the  vacant  seat,  repeating  Keble  as  we  went 
along.  The  joy  of  getting  home,  and  in  such  weather,  was, 
as  you  may  guess,  very  great ;  for  we  have  been  in  so  many 
different  places,  and  seen  so  many  people,  that  it  seems  a 
very  long  time  since  we  went  away,  and,  surely,  no  pleasure 
we  have  had  during  our  absence  has  given  us  half  the 
gratification  of  hearing  poor  sick  Charles  Gale's  expressions 
of  joy  at  hearing  our  carriage-wheels,  and  thinking  it  must 
be  Mr.  Hare,  or  of  being  told  by  so  many  that  they  have 
'  missed  us  desperate'  Yet,  much  as  we  enjoy  our  return,  I 
do  not  regret  that  we  have  been  away.  It  is  wholesome, 
both  for  mind  and  body,  to  have  the  variety  and  change  of 
scene,  air,  and  society,  and  gives  us  food  for  future  reflec- 
tion, as  well  as  making  us  begin  our  work  here  again  with 
greater  zest  from  the  temporary  break.  I  believe  it  is  quite 
necessary,  for  one's  own  individual  good,  to  mix  occasion- 

VOL.  I.  f  F 


434  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

ally  in  the  concerns  of  Earth.  It  draws  forth  other,  and 
often  more  trying,  points  of  character  than  are  called  out  in 
retirement,  and  is  very  humbling  to  one's  inner  man  in  show- 
ing how  hard  it  is  to  be  tolerant  when  others  differ  from  us, 
how  difficult  to  be  charitable  when  one's  own  standard  is 
not  followed.  That  we  are,  not  from  any  merits  of  ours, 
but  from  God's  good  pleasure,  placed  far  away  from  the 
temptations  and  trials  of  the  world,  I  do  most  gratefully 
feel  as  a  most  merciful  privilege  and  favour;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  I  am  fully  aware  that  there  remain  temptations 
and  trials  within  us,  quite  sufficient  to  make  us  watch  and 
fear,  and  that  we  must  be  more  diligent  in  our  inward 
search,  since  the  outside  has  much  less  need  of  cleansing ; 
and  I  do  not  think  I  ever  return  to  our  happy  life  without 
feeling  as  if  the  absence  had  strengthened  and  confirmed  me 
in  my  love  for  heavenly  things,  and  taught  me  to  know 
myself  better. 

"  Julius's  rooms  at  Cambridge  are  most  perfect,  looking  as 
they  do  down  that  glorious  avenue,  and  the  Gothic  windows 
are  filled  with  beautiful  geraniums,  &c. ;  his  walls  literally 
lined  and  papered  with  books,  except  one  side,  over  the 
fire-place,  where  Raphael's  '  Madonna  and  Child,'  and  two 
or  three  other  good  pictures  are.  I  fully  enter  into  his 
feeling  of  the  unworldliness,  the  freedom  from  care,  the 
leisure  afforded  by  such  a  life,  and  with  him  the  warmth  of 
friendship  keeps  alive  the  affections,  which,  in  general, 
must  lie  dormant  in  a  college;  yet  I  shall  be  much  sur- 
prised if,  after  two  or  three  years  of  his  country  life  at 
Hurstmonceaux,  Julius  has  not  received  more  of  real  happi- 
ness than  in  many  years  at  Trinity." 

L.  A.  S.  to  A.  W.  H. 

"  June  2,  1832. — Dearest  Aug.,  to-day  one  year  ago  I 
heard  you  say  the  grace  for  the  school  children  on  the  lawn 


SUNSHINE. 


under  the  cherry-tree,  and  I  felt  from  that  moment  I  should 
like  you.  It  seems  a  very  little  while  since  this  day  last 
year,  yet  in  its  course  we  have  both  had  many  joys  and 
little  troubles,  now  passed  away;  and  on  looking  back 
nothing  seems  to  have  been  really  of  consequence,  but 
how  we  have  done  God's  work.  You  have  both  been  fed 
in  green  pastures,  and  in  leading  others  to  the  waters  of 
comfort,  have  been  yourselves  refreshed  and  nourished,  and 
may  there  be  a  deep  well  now  filling  at  the  door  of  your 
hearts  from  those  very  waters,  to  uphold  and  strengthen 
you  when  God  shall  call  you  to  a  more  arduous  task  than 
that  of  feeding  His  lambs  and  enjoying  His  mercies.  It 
does  not  lessen  your  present  happiness  to  be  prepared  for 
a  change  ;  and  who  can  look  on  England  now,  and  not 
involuntarily  turn  round  to  see  if  the  sword  and  armour  be 
ready  ?  I  always  think  of  you  both,  as  the  two,  not  best, 
by  I  hope  many  hundreds,  but  quite  as  the  two  happiest 
people  in  the  world,  in  your  lot  and  perfect  oneness  of  mind. 
It  is  always  a  holiday  to  my  thoughts  when  I  let  them  have 
a  ramble  to  the  dear  Alton,  only  they  would  be  there 
much  too  often  if  I  did  not  keep  them  in  order  ;  but  on  the 
2nd  of  June  they  are  to  be  with  you  all  the  day." 

A.  W.  H.  to  M.  H. 

"June  2. — 

"No  youth  ere  drank  his  exiled  prince 

So  zealously  as  I  drink  thee, 

No  nun  ere  hung  around  her  cross 

So  fondly  as  I'll  cling  to  thee. 

"  What  words  !  a  wife — by  God's  own  hand 

To  man  the  last,  best  present  given ; 
Love — the  religion  of  the  heart, 
The  only  foretaste  here  of  heaven." 


436  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  The  happy  Alton  Rectory,  June  2. — The  evening  of  this 
blessed  day  is  come,  and  our  dear  Luce  is  sharing  our 
thanksgiving  over  its  third  anniversary.  Never  were  three 
years  more  rich  in  mercies,  more  sparing  in  trials  and 
troubles;  and  how  can  we  be  grateful  enough  or  loving 
enough  for  being  so  tenderly  treated  ?  You  know,  and  none 
so  well,  all  the  cause  we  have  for  blessing  and  adoring  God 
that  He  has  brought  us  together  and  permitted  us  to  serve 
Him,  and,  'by  love's  supporting  power,  to  cheat  the  toil 
and  cheer  the  way ; '  and  it  is  a  comfort  to  think  that  we 
have  your  prayers  that  we  may  not  make  this  our  earthly 
home  the  only  one  to  which  we  look,  but  that  we  may  press 
onward,  feeling  in  every  added  mercy  an  added  link  to  that 
chain  of  love  which  should  bind  and  unite  us  to  our 
heavenly  home ;  that  so  our  future  pilgrimage,  be  it  set  with 
roses,  as  the  past  has  been,  or,  as  is  perhaps  more  likely, 
with  thorns,  may  still  be  leading  us  heavenward,  and  that 
our  union  may  be  perfected  and  completed  hereafter.  I 
was  almost  afraid  we  might  have  a  wet  day  from  the  showers 
of  the  last  two,  but  the  sun  shone  as  brightly  as  on  the  last 
2nd  of  June.  The  table  and  benches  were  spread  under 
the  cherry-tree,  with  chairs  for  the  lookers-on ;  the  jars  of 
flowers  placed  upon  the  table ;  the  children,  consisting  of 
twenty-four  girls  and  seven  of  the  little  boys,  arranged  in 
order.  Then  came  the  Master,  and  said  a  grace  resembling 
the  one  of  last  year  in  substance,  only  with  the  addition  of 
a  few  verses  read  first  out  of  the  parable  of  the  marriage 
supper.  After  the  second  grace  the  children  sang  their 
hymn,  and  then  all  the  little  ones  performed  their  little 
exercises,  and  so  ended  the  feast.  After  the  company  had 
walked  round  the  orchard,  they  took  their  leave,  and  my 
darling  Aug.  and  I  were  left  to  ourselves.  Whilst  he  betook 
himself  to  his  sermon  in  the  afternoon,  I  went  to  fulfil  his 


SUNSHINE.  437 


duty  of  reading  to  poor  Charles  Gale.  I  do  not  know 
whether  you  remember  him — quite  a  young  man,  with  a 
wife  and  three  little  children,  but  since  last  summer  he  has 
never  been  out  to  work  again,  and  is  now  in  that  slow, 
lingering  consumption,  which  wastes  away  day  by  day,  with- 
out any  severe  pain,  though  he  suffers  much  from  weakness, 
&c.  He  has,  however,  none  of  the  false  excitement  and 
hope  of  life  which  usually  attend  this  disease,  and  has  for 
some  time  felt  that  he  was  beyond  the  skill  of  any  earthly 
physician.  A  more  humble  and  grateful  patient  I  never 
visited,  and  as  he  is  able  to  read,  and  takes  great  delight  in 
it,  he  is  far  better  taught  than  those  we  have  generally  to 
deal  with.  Whilst  we  have  been  away  he  has  read  quite 
through  the  '  Pilgrim's  Progress,'  and  he  talks  of  all  the  dif- 
ferent parts  quite  as  if  they  were  realities.  He  was  very 
much  interested  too  in  Hooper.  He  is  so  very  thankful 
for  being  taught,  and  says  he  never  missed  anything  so  much 
as  '  not  seeing  Mr.  Hare,'  while  we  were  absent.  He  has 
not  much  of  the  joy  of  believing  ;  he  mourns  so  much  over 
his  own  want  of  love,  and  that,  from  his  weakness,  he  can 
pray  so  little  :  and  he  said  to-day,  'When  God  is  so  merciful 
to  me,  and  has  done  so  much  for  me,  it  seems  so  bad  not  to 
love  him  more.  Ah,  this  is  the  grief! '  But  his  sorrow  is 
a  much  softer  and  more  Christian  sorrow  than  poor  Mary 
Brown's,  and  though  he  has  not  an  assitred,  he  has  a  com- 
fortable hope,  I  think,  at  times,  and  is  turning  to  his  Saviour 
as  his  only  trust  and  confidence.  His  poor  wife  sits  by  with 
a  sick  child  on  her  knee,  that  will  scarcely  outlive  its  father, 
and  I  would  fain  hope  that  she  is  learning  where  she  must 
seek  for  hope  and  comfort  when  her  trials  come,  as  they 
must  shortly  do. 

"  There  was  a  wedding  this  morning  to  celebrate  the  day. 
and  the  bells  have  been  ringing  quite  suitably.  It  has  been 
such  a  warm  evening,  and  the  boys  have  had  their  supper 


438  MEMORIALS   OF    A   QUIET  LIFE. 

under  the  cherry-tree,  too,  at  eight  o'clock ;  and  now  bed- 
time is  come,  and  I  must  end  my  talk  with  you,  and  rest 
my  tired  body  to  be  ready  for  to-morrow  and  its  duties. 

"  Monday. — It  was  the  most  delightful  day  yesterday,  and 
our  new  church  arrangements  answered  very  well.  We  had 
a  very  full  congregation  in  the  morning,  when  Augustus 
preached  on  Psalm  Ixviii.  18.  In  the  afternoon  all  the 
Stanton  people  (the  church  there  is  being  rebuilt)  came  with 
Mr.  Majendie  to  Great  Alton  Church.  Augustus  went,  and 
I  stayed  at  home  to  teach  the  children,  for  which  it  gave  me 
a  nice  long  time.  We  dined  at  four,  had  a  pleasant  rest 
for  reading  on  my  part  on  your  seat  in  the  garden,  and  for 
Augustus  to  walk  about  and  meditate  on  his  lecture  till  a 
quarter  before  seven,  when  Little  Alton  church  bell  again 
called  us  together,  and  we  had  a  very  full  church.  Aug. 
made  variations  in  the  lessons  for  the  benefit  of  those  who 
had  heard  the  regular  ones  at  afternoon  service,  and,  instead 
of  a  written  sermon,  he  took  up  Arnold's  sermons,  and  took 
one  of  those  on  Faith  as  his  groundwork,  adding  a  great 
deal  of  his  own,  and  it  had  in  fact  all  the  impressiveness  of 
an  extempore  sermon,  to  which  I  have  no  doubt  he  will, 
after  a  little  practice,  get  used  in  this  sort  of  way.  Nothing 
could  do  better,  and  earnestly  did  I  entreat  a  blessing  on 
his  words,  that  some  of  those  listening  so  attentively  might 
take  them  home.  How  the  dear  Luce  would  have  enjoyed 
her  Sunday ;  but  perhaps  one  spent  less  agreeably  would 
have  been  more  profitable,  for  outward  advantages  often 
make  one  less  watchful,  and  it  is  not  in  proportion  to  the 
external  that  the  internal  work  goes  on.  To  those  who 
have  to  teach  others,  too,  it  is  more  difficult  to  turn  one's 
thoughts  home  and  learn  for  one's  self,  and  I  find  myself 
thinking  so  much  oftener  of  what  will  benefit  others  than  of 
taking  the  lesson  to  my  own  use,  that  there  is  its  danger 
even  in  every  duty. 


SUNSHINE.  439 


"  Our  laburnums  are  in  such  beauty — they  make  the  place 
look  so  gay." 

"  The  Luce  Scat,  June  21. — Before  me  is  the  large 
field,  and  just  beyond  it  the  tower  of  Great  Alton  Church 
peeping  out  of  the  trees ;  on  one  side  of  the  field  old 
Maslen's  farmhouse,  on  the  other  side  a  bit  of  our  wee 
church.  The  great  elm- tree  spreads  its  shade  over  my 
head,  divided  from  me  now  by  no  fence,  only  a  gravel  walk, 
running  along  on  one  side  into  the  orchard,  and  on  the  other, 
through  an  archway  of  honeysuckles,  round  the  corner  to 
the  flower  garden.  And  here  I  sit,  where  Luce  so  often 
used  to  sit,  where  so  many  Greek  lessons  have  been  said,  so 
many  newspapers  grieved  over,  and  so  many  comfortable 
words  read  from  the  Book.  Scarcely  could  I  believe  it 
another  June ;  for  in  the  field  behind  me  the  Master  is  hard 
at  work  in  his  hay,  and  all  our  little  household  are  engaged 
in  making  the  most  of  one  of  the  finest  of  summer  days. 

I  am  sure  it  will  need  little  exercise  of  fancy  in 

you  to  place  before  you  the  dear  Master  looking  so 
pleased  over  his  work,  and  singing  his  chirping  notes  of 
joy  as  the  sun  shines,  and  the  pleasant  breeze  gives 
assurance  of  the  safety  of  his  favourite  hay.  Nor  will 
you  have  any  trouble  in  picturing  the  bustle  yesterday, 
just  after  dinner,  at  the  news  .of  an  approaching  storm, 
and  how  the  walking  haycocks  were  speedily  seen  tra- 
versing the  field  and  uniting  into  one  rick,  the  tall,  thin 
bearer  bending  under  his  load  as  he  went  along.  Nor 
would  you  less  have  been  present  a  few  days  since,  when 
we  were  called  out  by  a  swarm  of  bees  around  the  house. 
They  clustered  round  the  chimney,  and  made  an'  alliance 
with  the  former  occupiers,  and  we  concluded  they  were 
from  our  own  hive ;  but  up  came  a  man  soon  after  to 
claim  them,  and  our  own  we  found  afterwards  in  the 
hive.  When  they  swarm,  I  do  not  expect  that  anybody 


440  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

•will  let  us  keep  them,  for  everybody"  comes  here  after 
their  bees,  so  fond  are  they  of  coming  to  our  garden. 

"  Poor  Charles  Gale  is  dead.  He  had  not  seemed  any 
worse  the  day  before  when  I  was  with  him,  but  he  has 
left  behind  his  weak  and  suffering  body,  and  I  trust  his 
soul  is  in  that  rest  for  which  he  so  earnestly  longed,  and 
yet  to  the  last  so  much  feared,  lest  it  might  not  be  for 
him.  Such  assurance  of  hope  as  many  seem  to  possess 
is  not  given  to  all,  but  I  think  one  cannot  doubt  that 
where  the  heart  is  looking  to  Christ,  and  trusting  to  Him, 
and  doubting  only  from  the  greatness  of  personal  humi- 
liation, the  obscurity  and  dimness  which  hides  the  glory 
from  the  earthly  body  will  all  be  removed  the  moment 
the  spirit  quits  its  weak  tabernacle  here.  I  have  always 
been  accustomed  to  incline  to  think  perfect  assurance 
either  a  presumptuous  feeling  or  a  gift  to  but  a  few 
favoured  servants  of  God,  though  fully  aware  that  it  has 
been  constantly  united  with  the  deepest  humility 

"  Friday. — What  a  change  of  weather  since  yesterday  ! 
Instead  of  bright  sunshine,  and  summer's  sky,  all  is  gloom, 
and  wind,  and  rain,  and  the  poor  master's  hay  must  take  its 
chance.  We  were  all  set  to  work  in  a  great  hurry  yesterday 
afternoon,  and  they  got  a  good  deal  carried  before  the  rain 
began." 

" July  1 8. — We  have  had  a  great  alteration  made  in  our 
little  church,  which  is  such  an  improvement.  That  little 
arch  which  hid  the  pulpit  and  its  inhabitant  from  all  the 
chancel  end  has  been  taken  away,  and  a  large  opening 
made,  which  gives  room  for  two  pews  in  addition,  and 
will  enable  every  one  to  hear  and  see.  We  have  been 
obliged  to  have  service  in  Great  Alton  Church  for  two  Sun 
days,  and  next  Sunday  our  own  will  be  re-opened.  Aug. 
means  to  speak  about  the  change,  and  take  for  his  text  a 
verse  out  of  2  Kings  x.  21 — 'And  the  house  of  Baal  was 


SUNSHINE.  441 


full  from  one  end  to  another ; '  showing  how  the  church 
may  be  filled,  and  yet  not  by  worshippers  of  God,  and  that 
the  purpose  of  it  is  not  for  people  to  stand  and  sit  uncon- 
cerned with  all  that  is  read  or  spoken,  as  so  many  seem  to 
think.  Our  Sunday  is  now  a  very  busy  day,  for  between 
the  morning  and  evening  services,  that  is,  in  the  afternoon, 
Aug.  catechises  and  lectures  the  class  of  young  men  and 
women  for  confirmation  from  two  till  half-past  three  or  four ; 
then  we  dine,  and  have  service  again  at  seven,  with  a  sermon 
more  especially  addressed  to  the  young  persons,  and  a  good 
deal  put  in  extempore." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Leamington,  f  une  12,  1832. — On  Whitsunday  we  went 
to  hear  a  Baptist  minister,  who  preached  '  in  a  large  upper 
room  furnished,'  the  last  time  we  were  here.  They  have 
now  built  him  a  chapel.  There  was  nothing  finer  there 
than  a  straw-bonnet ;  the  singing  was  literally  singing  God's 
praises;  and  his  sermon  the  pure  simple  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus.  Here  we  shall  go  while  we  stay  at  Leamington  ;  for 
a  church  is  only  a  building  unless  it  has  a  soul,  and  the 
church  here  has  no  soul. 

"  Nothing  can  exceed  the  attention  and  tenderness  of  Dr. 
Jephson.  He  has  come  regularly  every  day  since  I  wrote 
last ;  and  every  time  we  see  him,  we  feel  our  interest  in  him 
increase.  An  old  and  venerable  clergyman  who  was  at  the 
door  yesterday  when  he  came  in,  said  to  him,  '  Ah,  doctor, 
if  you  would  but  take  my  medicine  as  readily  as  I  take 
yours.' " 

L.  A.  S.  to  A.  W.  H.  (After  a  remonstrance  from  him 
upon  her  attending  the  Baptist  Chapel.) 

"Leamington,  June  27,  1832. — Yes,  all  the  world  of 
Leamington  do  fill  the  Church  of  England  Chapel  every 


442  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Sunday,  twice  or  once,  to  receive  dispensation  and  en- 
couragement to  commence  another  week  of  vanity  and  folly. 
There  stands  at  the  door  a  boy,  with  a  heap  of  dirty  tickets 
in  his  hand,  and  a  man  stops  pulling  the  bell,  and  says,  '  do 
you  want  a  pew? — give  that  boy  a  shilling,  and  he'll  give 
you  a  ticket.'  You  give  your  shilling,  and  a  clerk,  in  ap- 
pearance and  expression  a  close  resemblance  to  Mephisto- 
pheles,and  who  walks  about  all  church-time  serving  Mammon, 
takes  your  ticket,  and  shows  you  into  a  crowded  pew.  I 
suppose  "it  is  possible,  when  there,  for  some  few  so  to  abstract 
their  minds  from  the  present  scene,  as  to  worship  God  in 
spirit  and  in  truth,  but  /  cannot  do  it.  Woe  unto  you,  if 
you  look  up,  you  find  a  hundred  pair  of  eyes,  under  the 
smartest  bonnets,  looking  about  as  if  at  a  spectacle.  I  can- 
not be  so  independent  of  my  senses,  when  I  hear  the 
mockery  of  worship,  as  to  gain  the  least  benefit  from  any 
part  of  the  service  :  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  making  an  idol 
of  the  church,  if  we  do  not  make  a  difference,  according  to 
how  it  is  served.  If  one  was  starving,  and  saw  a  palace, 
with  a  fine  service  of  plate  set  out,  but  no  food  on  it,  and 
just  opposite,  a  wretched  mud  cottage,  with  good  food  on 
pewter  plates,  would  not  the  hungry  traveller  enter  the  mud 
cottage  and  eat.  The  blessed  little  Baptist  Chapel  here  is 
the  mud  cottage,  and  Mr.  Coles  the  means  of  leading  many 
souls  to  Christ.  .  .  .  But  there  is  no  fear  of  the  most  ex- 
cellent Baptist  minister  who  ever  preached,  making  me 
desert  the  Church  of  England.  Every  time  I  go,  I  feel  mort 
strongly  how  beautiful  our  service  is,  and,  in  my  own  parish, 
I  would  not  leave  my  parish  church  for  any  dissenting 
chapel ;  but  here,  where  I  am  unknown,  with  no  ties,  no 
duties  to  leave,  I  feel  it  would  be  turning  my  back  on  a  door 
which  God  himself  had  opened,  if  I  did  not  go  thankfully  to 
Mr.  Coles'  chapel" 


SUNSHINE.  443 


A.  W.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  so  bad  an  account  of  the  Church  a( 
Leamington  ;  but  it  is  one  of  the  advantages  of  our  good 
Church,  that  we  (meaning  by  'we'  the  educated)  are 
only  very  partially  dependent  on  the  qualifications  of  the 
minister.  If  he  can  read,  and  most  clergymen  can  do  that 
much, — he  must  read  the  liturgy, — all  his  stupidity,  if  he  be 
stupid, — all  his  carelessness,  if  he  be  careless, — cannot  un- 
make that  into  anything  unscriptural  or  undevotional.  And 
as  to  the  sermon,  Herbert  has  said  enough  about  that ;  you 
know  Who,  according  to  him,  when  the  preacher  is  incapable, 
takes  up  the  text  and  '  preaches  patience.' 

"  The  day  after  to-morrow,  Julius  reads  in  at  Hurstmon- 
ceaux.  God  speed  him  in  his  new  vocation !  I  cannot  regret 
that  he  should  be  likely  to  travel  with  Landor,  though  I  do 
regret  the  abuse  I  hear  of  the  latter.  Southey,  and  when  I 
mention  him  I  mention  one  of  the  first  literary  men  in  Eng- 
land as  to  sterling  moral  worth,  has  the  following  passage 
about  Landor  in  his '  Vindiciae  Ecclesise  Anglicanse.'  '  Walter 
Landor,  whom  I  have  pride  as  well  as  pleasure  in  calling  my 
friend.'  And  this  is  the  man  who  has  been  described  as  being, 
'without  honesty  and  principle  ! '  I  wish  that  I  could  speak 
publicly  in  defence  of  a  man  whose  heart  I  know  to  be  so  large 
and  overflowing ;  though  much  of  the  water,  from  not  having 
the  branch  which  Moses  would  have  shewn  him  thrown  into  it, 
has  unhappily  been  made  bitter  by  circumstances.  But  when 
the  stream  gushes  forth  from  his  natural  affections,  it  is  sweet 
and  plentiful,  and  as  strong  almost  as  a  mill-stream.  For  his 
love  partakes  of  the  violence  of  his  character ;  and  when  he 
gives  it  a  free  course,  there  is  enough  of  it  to  fill  a  dozen  such 
hearts  as  belong  to  the  ordinary  man  of  pleasure,  and  man 
of  money,  and  man  of  philosophy,  and  to  set  the  upper  and 
nether  mill-stones  in  them  a-working.  The  loss  of  Mis- 
solunghi,  a  friend  of  his  who  was  at  Florence  at  the  time 


444  MEMORIALS    OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

told  me,  made  him  ill  for  a  fortnight.  '  He  ought  to  have 
been  more  resigned,'  some  respectable  man  would  say  at 
hearing  this.  Perhaps,  sir,  he  ought :  perhaps  he  felt  too 
much :  but  what  shall  we  say  then  of  those  who  felt  too 
little,  who  felt  nothing?  what  shall  we  say  of  the  tens  and 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  Englishmen  who  did  not  eat  a 
mouthful  of  toast,  or  drink  a  spoonful  of  tea  the  less,  for 
hearing  of  the  subversion  of  a  Christian  fortress,  and  the 
destruction  of  its  heroic  garrison  by  hordes  of  barbarous 
unbelievers  ?  And  what  I  so  strongly  feel  is,  that  while  our 
estimate  of  ourselves  must  be  the  strict  standard  of  the 
Gospel,  our  estimate  of  others  must  be  comparative.  He 
who  feels  any  wrong,  or  cruel,  or  base  thing  more  than 
others,  and  would  go  further  to  prevent  it,  must  always  have 
my  good  word.  And  being  such  a  one,  I  must  continue  to 
value  Walter  Landor,  while  praying  that  the  good  he  has 
already  may  be  improved  and  hallowed,  and  that  from  being 
a  man  of  men  which  he  now  is,  he  may  be  changed  and 
lifted  into  being  a  man  of  God.  Doubtless,  there  are  pas- 
sages in  his  '  Dialogues '  which  I  should  wish  away ;  and 
amongst  them,  most  of  his  attacks  (and  they  are  incessant 
where  the  subject  admits  of  them)  upon  Popery.  I  do  not 
like  pulling  and  tugging  at  even  a  decayed  branch  of  a  fruit- 
tree,  lest  the  tree  itself  should  be  shaken,  and  some  of  the 
fruit  should  drop  ofid" 


XII. 
THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD. 

"  A  religious  life  is  not  a  thing  which  spends  itself  like 
a  bright  bubble  on  the  river's  surface.  It  is  rather  like  the 
river  itself,  which  widens  continually,  and  is  never  so  broad  or 
deep  as  where  it  rolls  into  the  ocean  of  eternity." — BEECHER. 

TN  the  summer  of  1832,  Miss  Clinton  spent  a  month  at 
Alton,  where  her  warm  affectionate  interest  in  all  that 
went  on  made  her  a  general  favourite.  With  her,  the 
Hares  had  more  enjoyment  of  the  natural  advantages  of 
their  home  than  they  had  ever  yet  done,  making  many 
pleasant  little  excursions  in  the  "Dull  carriage,"  or  long 
rambles  amongst  the  Downs,  taking  "Jack"  the  pony, 
and  riding  it  alternately,  and  then  stopping  to  sketch. 
During  these  expeditions,  Miss  Clinton's  vivid  perception 
of  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  her  power  of  seizing  and 
making  the  most  of  the  picturesque  and  interesting  points 
which  even  the  dullest  landscape  affords,  seemed  to  open  a 
new  world  to  them. 

In  the  middle  of  August,  Miss  Clinton  returned  to 
London,  and  a  few  days  after,  the  Hares  left  home  to  join 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  O.  Leycester,  and  be  their  guests  at  Tenby, 
instead  of  the  annual  visit  to  Stoke.  When  they  reached 


446  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Swansea,  after  a  very  stormy  passage  from  Clifton,  they 
found  the  cholera  raging  there.  In  the  next  house  to  the 
inn  they  first  went  to,  a  number  of  people  lay  dead  and 
dying,  and  the  friends,  not  allowed  to  enter  the  doors  by 
the  town  regulations,  were  standing  in  an  agony  outside, 
waiting  for  news.  To  their  relief,  they  found,  after  some 
hours,  that  the  hotel  where  the  Leycesters  expected  them 
was  in  another  part  of  the  town,  and  they  moved  thither ; 
and  the  following  day,  by  carriage  to  Tenby.  Cholera  was 
at  that  time  supposed  to  be  exceedingly  contagious :  the 
favourite  remedy  was  a  glass  of  port  wine,  with  twenty  drops 
of  laudanum,  to  be  taken  on  the  first  symptom. 

The  remembrance  of  the  summer  at  Tenby  was  always  a 
source  of  peculiar  pleasure  to  my  dearest  mother,  because 
she  thought  that  when  they  were  together  there,  her  father 
first  learnt  to  appreciate  and  love  her  husband,  to  whose 
marriage  with  his  daughter  he  had  given  a  most  reluctant 
consent,  and  with  whom  he  had  never  got  beyond  a  mere 
outside  acquaintance,  during  the  short  summer  visits  at 
Stoke.  She  greatly  rejoiced  in  the  sensation  which  was 
created  in  the  little  town,  whenever  her  husband  preached 
in  Tenby  Church,  as  an  opportunity  of  showing  her  father 
and  Mrs.  Oswald  Leycester  how  much  he  was  appreciated 
by  others.  And  for  herself,  the  summer  was  filled  with  days 
of  entire  enjoyment,  spent  in  rambling  with  him  amongst 
the  rocky  coves,  sketching  in  their  caverns,  or  in  longer  ex- 
cursions to  Pembroke,  and  Carew,  and  to  Manobeer,  where 
Augustus  cut  his  name,  and  that  of  his  Mia  upon  the  ruin, 
and  declared  that  if  she  were  taken  from  him  he  should 
return  to  live  there  as  a  hermit,  as  the  most  utterly  desolate 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  447 

place  that  he  knew.  Each  day's  companionship  increased 
the  delight  which  they  derived  from  each  other,  anJ  their 
entire  unity  already  began  to  make  their  friends  tremble  as 
to  Avhat  the  effect  of  any  separation  might  be  upon  the  one 
who  was  left.  This  was  peculiarly  the  case  with  Lucy 
Stanley.  Speaking  of  the  life  which  the  Parrys  (see  page 
228)  were  now  leading  at  Tahlee,  in  Australia,  she  wrote 
at  this  time : — 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  II. 

"  Their  happiness  so  much  resembles  yours.  The  foun- 
dation is  the  same — the  oneness  of  mind,  the  sunny  view, 
ever  seeing  the  bright  side  of  things ;  and  if  Bella  is  en- 
trusted in  her  children  with  the  one  blessing  withheld  from 
you,  she  has  to  set  against  it,  in  her  anticipations  of  the 
future,  the  thought  that  this  is  probably  the  most  peaceful 
spot  of  her  whole  life,  as  from  the  very  nature  of  his  pro- 
fession and  character,  it  is  unlikely  that  he  will  sit  down 
idly  even  by  the  happiest  domestic  hearth,  as  long  as  there 
is  anything  to  be  done  in  the  service  of  his  country.  You, 
darling,  have  a  '  happy  warrior,'  whose  arms  you  may  help  to 
brighten,  and  who  is  most  at  his  post  when  by  the  side  of 
his  own  '  wifie,'  and  in  the  midst  of  his  people.  May  God 
bless  you  a\\four,  and  long  continue  to  others  the  happiness 
of  rejoicing  in  yours." 

M.  H.'s  JOURNAL  ("  The  Green  Book  "). 

"  Tenby,  Sept.  23, 1832. — Why  is  it  that  ruins  of  old  build- 
ings, independently  of  their  picturesque  effect  to  the  eye, 
interest  and  please  us  so  much  ?  May  it  not  be  that  they 
form  a  link  between  God's  works  and  man's,  having  by  time 
and  the  operations  of  nature  become  harmonized,  softened, 
and  in  some  sort  likened  to  rocks  and  picturesque  objects 


44^  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

of  natural  beauty,  whilst  retaining  the  associations  of  former 
animate  life  ?  awakening  within  us  imaginations  of  what  has 
been,  and  calling  up  those  feelings  of  sympathy  for  times 
gone  by,  and  people  who  have  lived  before  us,  which  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  life  are  altogether  put  aside.  The  sus- 
picion and  jealousy  with  which  a  pious  mind  perhaps  is 
inclined  to  look  at  the  works  of  mere  man's  creation,  is 
here  lulled  to  sleep,  by  the  approach  which  such  remains  of 
former  glory  seem  to  make  to  works  fresh  from  the 
Almighty  hand.  There  is  none  of  the  hardness,  the  limita- 
tion, and  the  consideration  of  worldly  interest,  visible  in  the 
broken  fragments  left,  which  in  a  complete  building  fit  for 
present  use  seems  to  draw  the  mind  only  to  earth  and  its 
cares  and  pursuits.  All  harsh  lines  are  done  away,  and  the 
roof  of  open  sky  seems  to  connect  the  perishing  materials 
of  earth  with  the  hopes  of  heaven.  God's  finger  seems  to 
have  been  at  work  here,  no  less  in  causing  the  decay  of 
human  art,  than  it  appears  elsewhere  in  the  formation  and 
arrangement  of  what  are  styled  Natures  works,  and 
wherever  that  finger  is  clearly  visible,  then  one  is  inclined 
to  admire  in  adoration.  Jf  we  looked  deeper  into  things, 
doubtless  we  should  oftener  trace  that  finger ;  but  we  are 
very  much  influenced  by  external  things,  and  look  not 
within  :  else  how  much  should  we  find  to  glorify  God  in, 
from  the  works  of  man  proceeding  as  they  do  from  the 
most  glorious  work  of  God,  the  mind  of  man." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Tenby,  August  29,  1832. — Whilst  you  are  enjoying  the 
rocks  and  waves  in  your  bays  at  Penrhos,  I  am  delighting 
in  them  here.  Our  large  drawing-room  has  a  balcony  over- 
hanging a  little  garden ;  the  said  garden  has  steps  imme- 
diately leading  to  the  rocks,  over  which  at  high  water  the 
waves  eddy  and  rush  just  as  they  do  on  yours  :  aud  at  low 


THE    SHADOW    OF   THE   CLOUD.  449 

water  there  are  delightful  sands  for  a  couple  of  miles  all 
along  the  shore.  There  are  the  ruins  of  an  old  castle  on  a 
promontory  forming  one  side  of  the  Bay  of  Tenby ;  and 
the  rocks  on  the  other  are  beautiful  in  colour  and  form. 
Then  on  the  other  side  of  the  castle  rock,  where  we  are' 
situated,  we  have  the  open  sea  before  us,  with  a  very  fine 
rocky  island  called  St.  Catharine's  close  to  the  shore,  and 
many  caverns  amongst  the  rocks,  which  are  at  the  base  of 
the  houses.  There  are  a  great  many  people  here,  but  they 
are  not  in  one's  way ;  and  if  the  weather  becomes  fine,  we 
shall  find  many  a  snug  seat  amongst  the  rocks  and  little 
bays  or  on  the  old  ruins.  I  never  saw  a  sea-place  I  thought 
so  enjoyable  or  beautiful  in  itself  as  this,  uniting  so  many 
advantages." 

"Sept.  9. — Our  days  here  pass  by  so  quickly.  How  I 
should  like  to  have  had  you  by  me  last  night  as  cloud  after 
cloud,  black  and  heavy  as  pitchy  night  herself,  sailed  over 
the  beautiful  moon,  which  from  under  them  all  shone  so 

bright  in   the   sea Our  Sunday  temple  for  this 

evening  has  been  amongst  the  rocks,  watching  '  the  mighty 
waves  of  the  sea,'  as  they  came  rolling  up,  one  bigger  than 
another,  or  dashing  with  their  white  curling  foam  over  the 
rocks.  They  are  now  still  raging  and  fuming  below  our 
windows,  and  the  moonshine  is  sparkling  most  brightly  on 
the  wide  sea  beyond ;  but  I  will  take  my  eyes  off  to  talk 
with  the  dear  Luce  whose  heart  has  doubtless  this  day,  with 
ours,  been  raised  up  in  grateful  adoration  to  Him  '  who  is 
mightier  than  the  noise  of  many  waters.'  We  have  not 
hitherto  had  much  stormy  weather  on  our  side  the  coast, 
and  it  is  one  advantage  of  this  place  that  one  may  always 
go  to  a  calm  or  a  windy  shore  as  one  pleases,  by  choosing 
opposite  sides  of  the  town.  There  is  not  a  great  deal  to 
see  in  the  neighbourhood,  which  I  rejoice  in  ;  for  I  grudge 
the  time  not  spent  amongst  the  rocks  and  caverns  here,  and 

VOL.  I.  G  G 


450  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

I  find  endless  subjects  for  drawing.  We  have  been  to  see 
one  old  castle,  Manobeer,  and  Augustus  was  so  delighted 
with  its  lonely  situation,  he  settled  how  if  he  lost  me,  he 
should  like  to  fit  up  a  couple  of  rooms  and  spend  two  or 
three  years  there,  with  no  other  companions  than  his  books 
and  the  sea-gulls.  He  has  hitherto  been  occupied  since  we 
came,  chiefly  in  transcribing  his  Visitation  Sermon  for  the 
press,  and  he  makes  himself  very  happy  here :  his  delight 
in  the  waves  and  rocks  is  quite  as  great  as  mine,  I.  think, 
and  we  enjoy  seeing  this  fine  scenery,  the  first  we  ever  saw 
together." 

"Bath,  Sept.  28. — A  Quakeress  came  with  us  in  the 
packet  from  Tenby  to  Bristol,  and  I  had  a  great  deal  of 
conversation  with  her.  She  was  a  druggist's  wife,  but  we 
should  never  have  detected  any  lowness  of  origin  from  her 
conversation :  it  was  so  sensible  and  full  of  love  that  all 
want  of  polish  seemed  done  away.  She  told  me  so  much 
of  their  discipline  and  modes  of  proceeding,  and  gave  me 
some  of  William  Penn's  tracts.  The  gratitude  she  expressed 
for  my  talking  so  much  to  her,  and  the  over-estimate  she 
had  formed  of  me  during  our  voyage,  quite  humbled  me. 
I  wish  I  could  tell  you  all  our  conversation.  She  said  her 
heart  yearned  towards  me  from  the  first,  when  I  sat  near 
her  in  the  packet,  long  before  I  spoke." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Penrhos,  Oct.  3,  1832. — \Velcome  back  to  Alton,  my 
Darling.  In  your  '  goings  out  and  comings  in '  I  follow  you 
in  spirit  very  closely.  If  you  saw  how  I  read  your  letters 
over  and  over  again, — in  the  house, — in  the  tower, — on  the 

rocks, — you  would  think  they  were  well  bestowed 

I  am  now  come  up  into  my  tower  for  the  morning, — a  wild 
stormy  day,  with  driving  rain,  and  break  up  of  the  summer 
weather.  I  have  just  read  the  chapter  for  the  day,  and  I 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  451 

hope  you  have  done  the  same ;  I  like  to  think  the  same 
verse  may  perhaps  be  encouragement  and  comfort  to  each, 
though  in  a  different  way.  The  verse  I  stopped  at  just  now 
was,  '  and  He  saw  them  toiling  in  rowing,  for  the  wind  was 
contrary  to  them.'  It  has  been  my  case  lately;  though  out- 
wardly our  sea  may  look  smooth,  and  the  temptations  and 
hindrances  be  such  as  the  world  cannot  understand,  we 
may  nevertheless  be  '  toiling  very  hard,'  feeling  the  wind  to 
be  so  contrary,  we  scarcely  make  any  way  at  all.  And  then, 
if  the  winds  from  without  lull  a  little,  a  heavy  ground-swell 
from  within  comes  on,  and  the  poor  vessel  almost  forgets  it  has 
an  Anchor  ready,  and  a  Haven  worth  all '  toiling  '  to  attain. 

"There  is  no  verse  in  the  whole  Bible  that  again  and  again 
comes  to  me  with  such  support  as — '  Be  of  good  cheer ;  it  is- 
/,•  be  not  afraid.  And  He  went  unto  them  into  the  ship, 
and  the  wind  ceased.'  Who  ever  followed  Christ,  and 
could  not  say,  Yes,  many  times  He  has  come  into  my  ship, 
and  the  wind  has  ceased,  whether  it  came  from  '  fightings 
without,'  or  from  '  fears  within  ?  ' 

"  Last  Sunday  but  one  I  went  to  my  '  Chapel  on  the 
Rocks,'  and  when  I  came  to  the  end  of  the  Epistle,!  saw  under 
it  written,  'Alton,  Sept.  4, 1831,'  the  last  dear  Sunday  I  spent 
there  last  year,  and  I  shut  my  eyes  to  see  that  little  church, 
and  that  blessed  and  beautiful  countenance,  and  the  Mia  by 
my  side,  and  the  naughty  school-children,  and  the  old 
attentive  faces;  and  then  I  opened  them  again  on  the 
broad  blue  sea  before  me,  and  thanked  God  who  had  given 
them  another  year  of  such  happiness  as  few  of  His  ungrate- 
ful creatures  will  let  themselves  enjoy,  for  He  gives  the  same 
materials  to  many." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Alton  Rectory  once  more,  Oct.  9. — The  last  day  of  the 
fine  weather,  Dull  brought  me  safe  home  from  Bath,  and  a 


452  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

delightful  drive  it  was,  with  the  thoughts  of  Alton  and  the 
dear  husband  before  me.  There  he  was  in  the  Devizes 
road,  all  ready  to  welcome  his  Mia  after  our  three  days  ; 
of  separation.  You  may  guess  how  joyful  a  Sunday  ours 
was,  with  Augustus  in  the  pulpit,  and  all  the  listening  old 
men  and  women,  in  the  place  of  fine  bonnets  and  gay 

gowns I  have  a  new  plan  which  I  hope  will  turn 

out  useful.  It  is  to  have  a  weekly  meeting  in  Gideon's 
cottage  for  as  many  mothers  of  families  as  like  to  come. 
They  are  often  unable  to  go  to  church,  and  most  of  them,  I 
suspect,  too  ignorant  to  learn  much  when  there,  and  if  I  go 
to  their  cottages  they  are  generally  engaged  in  washing  or 
something  unfriendly  to  one's  doing  any  good.  Betty  Smith 
seemed  quite  delighted  with  the  proposal,  and  said  she 
knew  many  who  would  be  glad  of  it.  So  on  Thursday,  at 
two  o'clock,  I  am  to  have  the  first.  Perhaps  the  dear 
Master  will  give  us  a  prayer. 

"  I  am  sure  there  is  a  good  in  one's  absence  from  home 
and  the  break  in  one's  regular  duties,  one  returns  to  them 
with  so  much  greater  zest,  the  people  are  disposed  to  be 
more  pleased  when  they  have  missed  us  much,  and  one 
begins  as  it  were  afresh  with  renewed  hope  and  energy, 
Jeering  all  the  more  how  blessed  a  privilege  it  is  to  be 
allowed  to  work  together  as  labourers,  however  humble,  in 
the  vineyard." 

"  Oct.  29. — Augustus  had  a  most  melancholy  letter  from 
Mr.  Rose  the  other  day  upon  the  prospects  of  the  Church. 
....  As  far  as  the  Church  of  Christ  is  concerned  we 
know  that  she  stands  on  a  rock  not  to  be  shaken,  and,  if 
persecutions  do  arise,  I  doubt  not  many  will  be  strengtht  ned 
and  confirmed  in  their  faith,  and  much  latent  zeal  wilt  be 
drawn  forth.  But  for  England  as  a  nation,  if  through  love 
of  wealth,  or  expediency,  or  principles  of  worldly  economy, 
such  as  those  advocated  by  political  economists,  and  nowa- 


THE    SHADOW   OF   THE    CLOUD.  453 

days  even  by  women  (Miss  H.  Martineau  for  instance),  it 
casts  off  that  beautiful  Christian  edifice  which  has  bound 
together  jarring  interests  and  forced  upon  the  people  that 
instruction  they  would  in  many  cases  be  slow  to  seek  for  ; 
or  if,  by  lowering  the  condition  of  its  clergy,  it  leaves  the 
higher  classes  to  the  influence  of  all  the  temptations  of  their 
situation,  without  reverence  for  those  appointed  to  teach 
them,  what  will  she  have  to  answer  for,  and  what  hand  but 
that  of  a  merciful  God  can  carry  us  through  the  evils  she 
may  expect  to  draw  upon  herself?" 

M.  H.'s  JOVRXAL—  ("  The  Green  Book  "). 

"  Alton,  NIK<.  3. — How  immediately  self  enters  into  every- 
thing we  think  or  do  !  If  we  are  in  the  course  of  duty  led  to 
any  exertion,  however  small,  we  are  apt  to  be  puffed  up  by  it, 
'  I  have  clone  this,'  '  I  ought  to  be  thanked.'  A  return  of 
good  crop  is  expected  from  the  seed  sown,  and  often  there 
arises  a  secret  wish  that  others  should  know  what  has  been 
done.  Now  this  is  not  that  love  '  which  seeketh  not  her 
own,'  and  of  all  its  characteristics  I  suspect  this  is  the 
hardest  to  make  ours.  Poor  and  worthless  as  we  may  feel 
ourselves  in  the  abstract,  or  when  comparing  ourselves  with 
the  standard  of  Truth,  I  fear  in  particulars,  in  the  detail  of 
our  lives,  we  are  but  rarely  conscious  how  little  we  are. 
And  why  is  this  ?  Because  '  we  compare  and  measure  our- 
selves by  ourselves,'  that  is  by  others  weak  as  ourselves  and 
who  may  do  less.  And  even  this  would  not  be  so  unfair  a 
rule  as  we  make  it,  if  our  imaginations  would  only  invest  our 
fancied  inferiors  with  the  advantages  and  trusts  committed 
to  us,  and  suppose  what  they  would  do  then.  But  we  take 
people  as  they  are,  with  all  the  circumstances  of  their  rela- 
tive positions  unallowed  for,  and  compare  our  own  doings 
with  theirs,  and  take  credit  to  ourselves  for  the  contrast, 
without  bearing  in  min-l  that  our  talents  may  have  been 


454  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

five  and  theirs  one.  And  truly  it  is  an  awful  thought  to 
consider  that  God's  justice  must  weigh  the  means  vouch- 
safed to  his  creatures  in  the  balance  with  their  attainments 
when  we  think  what  those  means  have  been  to  us,  how 
singularly  great  and  numerous,  whilst  the  hindrances  have 
been  so  few ;  and  when,  further,  the  nothingness  and  weak- 
ness of  our  return  is  estimated  without  being  held  up  by 
the  self-delusion  of  our  own  hearts. 

"  '  In  all  reforms  I  would  cut  off  all  abuses  that  cling 
round  an  institution  as  far  as  possible,  but  take  care  to  pre- 
serve the  principle  unimpaired,  and  to  restore  it  to  its 
original  use.  In  constitutions,  as  in  individuals,  what  suits 
one  will  not  suit  another,  and  the  true  wisdom  is  to  perfect 
the  one  you  have,  and  not  seek  to  substitute  another  that 
may  not  adapt  itself  as  well  to  the  different  circumstances 
of  the  case.'  This,  or  something  like  it,  Augustus  answered 
to  my  question  of  how  far  one  ought  to  concede  in  such 
matters  as  Reform.  It  requires,  however,  more  skill  and 
penetration  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  many  to  define  the  exact 
limits  of  that  principle — how  much  is  the  essential  part,  that 
root  which  may  not  be  touched,  how  much  the  accidents 
that  may  safely  be  pruned  away.  The  moment  a  wound  is 
inflicted  on  a  vital  part,  the  animated  being  droops,  withers, 
and  at  last  dies ;  but  so  nearly  is  that  vital  part  connected 
with  members  not  vital,  that  till  the  consequence  follows, 
the  nature  of  that  wound  may  be  unknown." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Aldcrley,  Nov.  19,  1832. — I  have  such  constant  delight 
in  '  Valehead  Rectory,'  to  which  I  have  recourse  again  and 
again,  when  my  thoughts  grow  downwards,  from  mixture 
with  this  most  earthly  earth.  The  poetry  is  beautiful,  after 
long  acquaintance,  and  I  never  close  the  book  without 
having  gained  some  of  the  feeling  for  which  I  opened  it. 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  455 

'  Valehead  Rectory '  always  seems  to  me  in  prose  what  the 
'Christian  Year'  is  in  poetry,  and  what  Augustus  is  in 
human  nature." 

"Nov.  30,  1832. —  .  .  .  Since  I  came  back  I  have  been 
reading  much  in  the  works  of  the  holy  and  beloved  Leigh- 
ton.  I  never  can  read  many  pages  of  him,  and  think  of 
anything  else,  which  I  can  do,  most  unhappily,  with  most 
others.  He  is  so  truly  the  essence  of  the  Bible,  and  raises 
one  gently  above  the  earth,  and  the  view  of  one's  own  sin- 
ful self,  to  the  full  contemplation  of  the  high  standard  we 
are  aiming  at.  Dear  old  Jeremy  always  keeps  rne  too  much 
in  contemplation  of  the  extreme  ugliness  of  sin,  and  I  think 
I  can  get  away  from  it  most  easily  by  fixing  my  eye  on  the 
'  Beauty  of  Holiness ;'  but  both  together — Leighton  and  Tay- 
lor— would  be  a  religious  library  sufficient  for  any  Christian 
who  did  not  live  in  the  fifteenth  century." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Alton,  Dec.  22,  1832. — I  hope  this  may  reach  you  on 
Christmas  Day,  that  it  may  bring  us  more  forcibly  to  your 
mind's  eye,  join  us  more  earnestly  in  your  prayers,  and 
communicate  to  you  something  of  that  share  of  joy  we 
shall  be  feeling  with  you,  in  the  coming  again  of  that 
blessed  season.  It  is  a  comfort  to  think  that  others  are 
feeling  it  with  us,  and  that  Christmas  is  to  many  a  quiet 
hidden  soul  bringing  its  glad  tidings,  not  the  less  surely 
because  it  is,  alas,  in  these  times,  only  in  secret  that  the 
real  joy  can  often  be  felt  It  is,  indeed,  sad  to  think  that 
in  a  Christian  country,  and  uniting  as  most  do  in  Christian 
worship,  this  should  be  so — that  the  Name  uppermost  in 
our  hearts  should  not  be  allowed  to  pass  our  lips,  and  that 
the  real  cause  for  rejoicing  is  the  one  that  cannot  be  even 
hinted  at.  But  we  must  not  turn  to  the  sadder  side.  Let 
us  rather  think  of  the  many  thousands  who  have,  by  the 


45 6  MEMORIALS    OF  A   QUIET    LIFE. 

first  coming  of  this  day,  been  turned  from  darkness  into 
light,  and  of  the  peace  and  comfort  to  our  own  hearts 
springing  up  with  the  assurance  of  '  a  Saviour  which  is  Christ 
the  Lord  ' — that  He  who  thought  it  not  beneath  Him  to  lie 
in  a  manger,  and  be  subject  to  infant  weakness  and  human 
suffering,  is  now  mediating  for  those  whom  He  has  re- 
deemed— watching  over  their  struggles,  and  sending  His 
Spirit  to  guide  and  to  help  them,  more  powerfully  than 
when  on  earth  He  comforted  his  apostles  by  words  and 
deeds.  It  is,  I  do  believe,  our  little  faith  which  chains 
down  our  thoughts  to  the  mournful  recollection  of  our  own 
weakness,  instead  of  leading  them  upwards  to  forget  our- 
selves in  the  adoration  of  our  Lord  and  Master,  and  which 
so  prevents  our  feeling  our  hearts  burning  within  us,  and 
makes  us  serious  instead  of  glad.  When,  however,  we  see 
how  little  there  is  of  Peace  on  Earth,  no  wonder  if  we  are 
often  sad ;  and  these  days  of  political  excitement  are  more 
especially  unfavourable  to  it.  We  do  feel  most  thankful  to 
be  out  of  reach  of  it  altogether. 

"  Yesterday,  being  St.  Thomas's  Day  (on  which  Lady 
Jones  always  gave  her  gifts),  the  blankets  were  given  out, 
and  Augustus  was  as  happy  as  you  can  fancy  him  being, 
calling  the  people  in,  one  by  one.  We  lend  them  till 
Easter,  and  they  are  most  thankful.  Truly  my  path  lies 
through  green  pastures  ;  my  only  grief  is  that  I  am  so  little 
thankful,  that  I  do  not  love  Him  more  who  pours  upon  me 
such  abundance  of  earthly  comforts.  God  bless  our  dear 
Luce." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H.  (during  an  illness  of  Augustus). 

"  Dec.  31,  1832. — I  cannot  help  the  abiding  conviction 
that  here  all  will  end  well.  Klopstock  lost  his  Meta,  and 
George  Herbert's  wife  was  left  early  a  widow  !  Still  it  is 
perhaps  a  great  comfort  when  we  feel  that  sanguine  hope, 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  457 


though  we  cannot  always  give  a  reason  for  it.  When  the 
rod  falls,  we  bow  beneath  it,  and  meekly  and  fervently  love 
on.  We  shall  not,  shall  we,  be  worse  off,  for  having 
hoped  that  in  our  case  the  cup  may  for  a  while  pass  by, 
though  we  know  there  is  no  reason  why  it  should.  Your 
Christian  letters  come  to  me  like  angel-songs,  from  a  brighter 
and  purer  world.  Yesterday  I  wrote  you  a  long  letter,  and 
burnt  it  to-day,  because  I  thought  it  discontented,  Oh  !  if 
we  could  but  remember  that  our  Master's  eye  is  never  off 
us, — that  He  saw  His  disciples  'toiling  in  their  ships,'  though 
they  knew  it  not. 

"  You  and  I  must  feel  somewhat  differently  at  the  close 
of  a  year,  though  in  much  together.  I  shake  hands  joyfully 
with  the  old  friend,  and  hail  the  new  one,  as  a  step  nearer 
Home, — not,  I  trust,  with  a  morbid  feeling — I  can  never  be 
unhappy  in  this  life  ;  but  the  very  thought  of  what  is  called 
Death  is  a  sensation  of  joy  to  me,  which  none  but  you  can 
understand,  and  you  perhaps  hardly  yet.  I  do  earnestly 
hope  the  feeling  is  not  a  presumptuous  one,  still  when  I 
am  happiest  the  feeling  never  varies,  though  hardly  does  it 
bear  putting  into  words.  And  it  is  now  on  the  stroke  of 
twelve;  in  a  few  minutes  the  old  year  will  have  passed 
away.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  ones,  and  may  the  close  of 
every  year  find  us  with  our  lamps  burning,  that  if  our  Lord 
calls  us,  we  may  not  fear  to  follow  Him.  What  a  thought  it 
is— that  to  any  one  of  us,  this  next  year  may  be  the  entrance 
into  eternity  ! 

"  The  church  bells  have  just  struck  up,  and  they  are 
ringing  in  the  New  Year ;  the  hand  of  my  clock  is  on  the 
twelve.  At  this  moment  our  prayers  may  be  ascending 
/together  to  the  throne  of  Grace.  Almighty  and  Blessed 
God,  Father,  Saviour,  and  Comforter  in  one,  bless  us  and 
keep  us  through  the  year  just  opened  on  us, — guide  us 
with  Thy  counsel,  strengthen  us  with  Thy  might,  and  after- 


MEMORIALS    OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 


wards  receive  us  into  glory.  To  Thee,  O  God  our  Saviour, 
be  all  glory,  majesty,  dominion,  and  power,  both  now  and 
ever.  Amen." 


In  the  autumn  of  1832,  after  he  had  taken  possession  of 
the  Living  of  Hurstmonceaux,  and  had  given  directions  for 
the  addition  of  several  rooms  to  the  house,  Julius  Hare  set 
out  for  Italy  with  his  friends  Worsley  and  Landor,  visiting 
Holland  and  many  parts  of  Germany  on  the  way.  Almost 
all  the  interesting  letters  in  which  he  described  his  travels 
and  his  first  impressions  of  Rome  to  his  brother  Augustus 
were  unhappily  destroyed  by  Mrs.  Julius  Hare.  Scarcely 
any  memorial  of  this  journey  remains  but  his  letters  to  his 
brother  Francis : — 

JULIUS  HARE  to  FRANCIS  HARE. 

"  Ai/gsbitrg,  Oct.  27,  1832. — It  is  a  month  to-morrow 
since  we  (that  is,  Landor,  Worsley,  and  I)  left  London  :  we 
saw  the  great  Netherlandish  towns,  and  the  treasures  they 
contain,  pretty  well ;  spent  a  couple  of  days  at  Bonn,  one 
at  Frankfort,  and  another  most  delightful  one  at  Nurem- 
burg,  which  we  all  agreed  in  admiring  above  all  the  towns 
we  have  ever  seen.  Landor  says  Rome  is  nothing  to  be 
compared  to  it  in  point  of  beauty  and  interest." 

"Viccnza,  Nov.  15. — .  .  .  .  We  have  been  seeing  much, 
especially  in  the  way  of  pictures,  though  of  course  rather  too 
rapidly  :  and  both  Landor  and  Worsley  have  been  most 
delightful  and  instructive  companions.  At  Munich  the 
Gallery  was  closed;  but  we  sawtheGlyptotheca,Schliessheim, 
and  Schelling,  who.  now  that  Goethe  and  Niebuhr  are  gone, 
is  without  a  rival  the  first  man  of  the  age, — I  know  not  who 
is  the  second.  We  had  three  glorious  days  at  Venice,  that  is, 


THE    SHADOW   OF   THE    CLOUD.  459 

in  the  picture  way,  for  it  rained  the  whole  time.  Our  last 
morning  we  employed  in  buying.  Landor  got  a  Schiavone 
for  himself,  and,  with  inimitable  skill  in  bargaining,  a 
beautiful  marriage  of  St.  Catherine  by  Giovanni  da  Udine,* 
and  an  exquisitely  lovely  head  of  St.  Cecilia  (a  Perugino,  or 
early  Raphael — Landor  inclines  to  think  the  latter)  for  me, 
for  a  hundred  louis, — so  that  Hurstmonceaux  will  again 
bear  witness  to  the  family  love  for  the  arts.  This  morning 
we  spent  at  Padua.  What  magnificent  relics  there  are 
there !  The  hall  must  have  been  the  finest  room  in  the 
world,  as  large,  to  judge  by  the  eye,  as  Westminster  Hall, 
and  covered  with  paintings  by  Giotto,  Mantegna,  and  other 
mighty  painters.  What  a  place,  too,  is  the  chapel  of  the 
Eremitani.  Giotto  seems  clearly  to  be,  with  perhaps  the 
single  exception  of  Raphael,  the  greatest  genius  that  painting 
has  yet  seen,  at*  least  in  the  modern  world." 

"  Fiesole,  Dec.  1 1 . — Here  at  Florence,  from  being  at  Lan- 
dor's  villa,  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  as  much  as  I  might 
otherwise  have  done.  But  I  have  learnt  to  worship  Raphael 
more  devoutly  and  reverentially  than  ever,  and  I  have  seen 
the  Niobe.  Many  other  admirable  things,  too,  have  come 
across  me.  Pietro  Perugino  is  divine,  but  the  picture  at 
Bologna  is  still  lovelier  and  heavenlier  than  any  here.  In 
Fra  Bartolomeo  I  am  disappointed,  his  drapery  is  mostly 
the  best  part  of  his  pictures  :  in  the  famous  St.  Mark  it 
is  the  only  good  one :  the  expression  is  bad.  The  Job 
seems  to  me  poor,  the  Isaiah  miserable.  In  single  figures,  he, 
as  far  as  design  goes,  is  a  thousand  degrees  below  Correggio, 
the  four  Evangelists  on  the  cartoons  for  his  frescoes  are 
the  sublimest  single  figures  I  ever  saw.  The  Resurrection, 
in  the  Pitti,  is  very  magnificent;  and  perhaps,  however, 

*  There  was  a  replica  of  this  picture  exhibited  at  Burlington  House,  in 
the  Loan  Exhibition  of  1871,  where  it  was  attributed  to  Marco  Basaiti, 
1470—1520. 


460  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

I  should  have  thought  better  of  him,  but  that  Landor  had 
led  me  to  expect  something  almost  equal  to  Raphael. 
The  Fra  Angelicos  in  S.  Marco,  are  exquisitely  beautiful. 
John  of  Bologna,  too,  is  a  very  great  man,  though  I  think, 
in  spite  of  Landor,  very  inferior  in  genius  to  Michael 
Angelo ;  and  to  place  him  above  Phidias  and  Praxiteles 
seems  to  me  to  be  utter  nonsense.  The  Mercury  is  a 
singularly  agile  figure,  but  not  a  god,  unless  it  be  a 
'dieu  de  la  danse.  The  Rape  of  the  Sabines  and  the  Nessus 
seem  to  me  to  be  much  too  violent  for  sculpture,  with 
too  many  projecting  points.  His  Oceanus,  however,  and 
still  more  his  Neptune  at  Bologna,  are  very  grand.  What 
a  grievous  thing  it  is  that  Michael  had  not  a  little  of 
Raphael's  meekness,  and  was  not  content  with  doing  a 
thing  most  beautifully,  unless  he  could  astound  and  amaze. 
His  Madonna  and  Child  at  Bruges  is  worthy  of  Raphael : 
his  angel  at  Bologna  is  as  lovely  and  angelic  as  any  of 
Perugino's;  and  yet  he  could  paint  that  monstrous  and 
anatomical  abortion  in  the  Tribune.  He  is  almost  always 
grand  however,  and  full  of  genius  :  every  time  I  walk 
before  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  I  am  struck  with  awe  by  his 
David,  and  nothing  can  be  more  solemn  and  majestic  than 
his  Giulio  de'  Medici,  and  the  four  figures  at  the  feet  of  the 
monuments. 

"  Rome,  Dec.  20. — We  just  arrived  here  in  time  to  take  i_ne 
walk  round  St.  Peter's  before  the  venti-quattro.  The  general 
effect  of  the  exterior  seems  to  me  much  less  fine  than  St. 
Paul's :  the  dome  does  not  harmonize  well  with  the  flat 
roof  beneath  it.  But  the  dome  itself,  the  colonnade,  and 
the  interior,  are  unrivalled.  Our  sitting-room,  in  the  Via 
di  Monte  Brianzo,  looks  down  upon  the  Tiber,  and  over 
it  to  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  the  Mont  Mario,  and  St. 
Peter's. 

We  were  greatly  delighted  at  Siena  by  the   admirable 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  46  J 

Raphael  and  Pinturicchio  frescoes,  and  by  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  Peruginos  in  the  world.  The  three  Sienese 
painters  are  by  no  means  ordinary  personages, — at  least,. 
Razzi  and  Pacchierotto  are  often  very  great :  Beccafumi 
seemed  to  us  very  inferior  to  his  two  compeers.  We 
found  a  beautiful  Pierino  del  Vaga  too,  though  sadly  dis- 
figured by  dirt,  and  a  number  of  other  good  pictures,  at  the 
house  of  a  Cavaliere  Brillanti. 

"  Twelfth  Day,  1833. — Many  happy  returns  of  the  day  to- 
you.  This  always  used  in  old  times  to  be  a  festive  day 
with  us  ;  and  I  wish  circumstances  had  allowed  of  our 
spending  it  together.  Your  children,  I  trust,  are  brought 
up,  as  we  were,  with  a  due  veneration  for  the  Befana  :  she 
seems  to  be  nearly  as  worthy  an  object  of  worship  as  many 
that  find  votaries  here.  We  do  not  seem  to  make  much, 
way  through  the  map  ol  materials  before  us  :  on  the  contrary,, 
the  horizon  seems  to  widen  as  we  advance.  Hitherto, 
however,  holidays  and  religious  ceremonies  have  stood  a 
good  deal  in  our  way :  but  the  puppet-show  at  Ara  Cceli 
to-day  has  given  us  our  fill  of  the  latter,  and  the  next,  I  hope,. 
will  be  a  clear  week,  without  any  obstacle  or  interruption. 
Yesterday,  we  spent  the  morning  at  the  Borghese,  but 
only  got  through  four  rooms,  and  even  those  incompletely  : 
for  when  there  is  leisure,  we  find  it  much  more  profitable 
to  see  few  pictures  at  once,  and  study  them,  and  discuss 
them,  and  try  to  make  out  the  characteristics  of  the 
master's  style.  What  a  superb  collection  it  is  !  though  evert 
in  it  are  evidently  some  misnomers,  and  Sassoferrato  has 
the  post  of  honour,  when  there  are  twenty  greater  painters 
in  the  room.  The  Garofalo's  there,  at  the  Doria,  and  at 
the  Sciarra  (the  two  landscapes  in  the  best  Venetian  style), 
have  given  me  a  much  higher  notion  of  him  than  I  had 
formed  before  :  surely  many  of  the  numberless  monotonous 
repetitions  of  the  same  conventional  heads  in  the  small 


462  MEMORIALS   OF  A  QUIET  LIFE. 

pictures  fathered  upon  him,  must  be  by  his  scholars.  The 
colouring  is  always  good  :  indeed  in  this  respect  the  Ferrara 
school  come  near  to  the  Venetian  :  but  very  often  they 
have  little  merit  besides.  Your  old  favourite,  Dosso  Dossi, 
is  multitudinous  and  of  all  sizes  at  Modena :  but  there  did 
not  seem  to  be  much  in  him.  The  early  Peruginesque 
unfinished  Raphael  at  the  Borghese  is,  I  suppose,  an  his- 
torical picture.  But  I  should  be  inclined  to  doubt  whether 
the  portrait  said  to  be  of  himself  in  his  youth  by  himself, 
is  either  one  or  the  other.  That  by  Timoteo  della  Vite 
is  a  very  interesting  picture :  his  beautiful  Magdalene  at 
Bologna  had  taught  me  to  admire  him.  Raphael's  Deposi- 
tion is  certainly  a  most  beautiful  and  sublime  picture  ;  but 
I  think  the  Germans  go  too  far  in  calling  it  his  finest  work. 
The  Spasimo,  so  far  as  one  can  judge  from  Trochi's  fine 
engraving,  seems  to  be  so,  or  at  all  events  to  stand  by  the 
side  of  the  Sistine  Madonna.  In  the  Deposition  the  central 
figure  of  the  corpse-bearer,  which  people  praise  for  its 
muscular  strength,  seems  -to  me  a  grievous  fault.  Rubens 
may  make  his  Crucifixion  an  occasion  for  displaying  nerves 
and  thews  ;  but  Raphael  was  too  heavenly  for  such  things." 

To  A.  W.  H. 

"Rome,  Day  of  the  Purification. — ....  I  rejoiced  when  I 
left  England  in  the  thought  that,  till  I  returned  thither,  I 
should  not  see  another  proof-sheet ;  and  lo,  they  are  threat- 
ening to  pour  in  upon  me  of  all  places  in  the  world  here  in 
Rome.  Here  in  Rome,  where  one  has  so  many  better  ways 
of  spending  one's  time  ;  where  authorship  seems  to  be  the 
last  thought  that  ever  enters  anybody's  head,  I  seem  to  be 
fated  to  publish,  and  of  "all  things  in  the  world,  a  sermon. 
I  preached  the  Sunday  before  last,  and,  to  suit  my  sermon 
to  the  time  and  place,  took,  '  What  went  ye  out  into  the 
\vilderness  to  see  ? '  for  my  text,  and  the  evils  and  dangers 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  463 

of  living  abroad  for  my  subject ;  and,  as  I  had  resolved, 
followed  your  example  in  scolding  the  misbehaviour  in  the 
churches.  But  you  know  people  rather  like  to  be  scolded, 
at  least,  when  the  scolding  comes  from  the  pulpit,  and  is 
not  immediately  personal.  Vehement  preachers  have 
always  been  popular  ;  and  so  in  the  following  week  a  num- 
ber of  the  congregation  expressed,  through  Mr.  Burgess,  a 
strong  wish  that  I  might  be  induced  to  print  it ;  and  as  the 
applicants  were  personally  unknown  to  me,  I  felt  myself 
forced  to  set  about  trying  to  get  a  papal  imprimatur.  The 
chief  said  he  had  already  heard  a  great  deal  about  my 
sermon,  and  if  I  would  take  it  to  him  to  read  over,  that  he 
might  see  there  were  no  objectionable  expressions,  he  would 
be  very  glad  to  give  me  his  license.  Here  the  matter  stands 
now ;  but  people  say  if  the  license  is  granted,  it  will  be  a 
great  point,  for  that  it  will  be  the  first  instance  of  a  Pro- 
testant sermon  printed  at  Rome.  To  make  amends  for  the 
trouble  it  will  give  me,  I  have  had  one  or  two  very  touching 
expressions  and  thanks.  Far  the  most  delightful  thing  was 
a  note  from  Bunsen  (the  Prussian  minister),  who  was  there, 
and  borrowed  the  sermon  after  church,  and  read  it  into 
German  to  his  family  in  the  evening.  Next  morning,  before 
I  was  dressed,  I  received  the  following  note,  which  I  send 
you  in  the  original : — 

"  '  Theurer  Freund,  erlauben  sie  mir  dass  ich  sie  mit 
diesem  Namen  begriisse.  Ihre  gestrige  Predigt  hat  mir 
bewiesen  dass  der  Grund  auf  welchem  unsere  Verbindung 
ruht,  zu  tief  liegt  urn  von  der  Sturm  der  Zeit  beriihrt  zu 
werden  ;  ein  Grund  der  Gemeinschaft  der  ihnen  meine 
anhanglichkeit  furs  leben  verbiirgt,  und  mich  mehr  als  je 
wiinschen  la'sst  ihre  Freundschaft  furs  leben  zu  gewinnen.' 

"  You  have  heard  something  of  Bunsen,  and  know  that  I 
expected  to  like  him  very  much.  I  like  him  far  more  than 
I  expected,  and  hardly  know  any  man  who  unites  so  many 


464  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

high  merits,  without,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  a  single  defect. 
He  is  one  of  the  friendliest,  most  amiable,  liveliest,  most 
sensible,  best  informed,  most  entertaining  of  human  beings, 
overflowing  with  kindness,  good  humour,  with  high  spirits, 
most  actively  and  unweariedly  benevolent;  and  I  have 
never  discovered  the  least  spark  of  ill-nature  in  him,  or  of 
selfishness,  or  of  vanity,  though  we  are  constantly  together. 
Over  and  above  everything  else,  he  is  a  man  of  the  strong- 
est, purest,  most  fervent  piety.  Circumstances  have  in 
some  degree  given  another  turn  to  his  studies,  else  his  own 
bias  would  have  been  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  religion. 
Even  as  it  is,  he  has  done  a  great  deal.  He  has  made  a 
collection  of  German  hymns,  a  large  octavo  volume  that  he 
has  selected  from  above  eighty  thousand.  He  is  engagedr 
too,  in  publishing  a  complete  collection  of  Christian  litur- 
gies, and  has  made  great  researches  in  all  ages  of  the 
Christian  Church  for  this  purpose.  Nay,  he  has  himself 
printed  a  liturgy  for  his  own  chapel  here,  drawn  in  great 
measure  from  ours,  or  rather  from  the  same  sources ;  but  it 
differs  from  ours  in  some  very  important  points,  and  I 
think  mostly  for  the  better.  The  German  Protestant  chapel 
itself,  too,  is  entirely  his  creation,  and  has  been  of  very 
great  advantage,  among  other  things,  by  having  put  a  stop 
to  the  conversions  which  had  previously  been  so  frequent 

among  the  German  artists 

"  As  for  Rome,  dear  Rome,  it  seems  as  if  I  had  seen 
nothing  of  it;  and  yet  I  have  seen  more  than  in  all  the 
other  towns  I  ever  was  in  put  together — more  objects  of 
love  and  of  thought.  It  will  be  a  great  grief  to  me  to  leave 
her  with  the  thought  that  I  am  never  to  see  her  again  :  yet 
it  will  be  a  great  happiness  to  have  seen  her,  and  having 
been  seen,  she  will  become  a  part  of  sight" 


THE    SHADOW   OF   THE   CLOUD.  465 

M.  H.'s  JOURNAL — ("The  Green  Book  "). 

"January  14,  1833. — A  new  year  !  To  how  many  is  it 
nothing  but  an  old  one  ;  new  in  nothing  but  its  name,  old 
in  the  strengthening  of  all  former  propensities ;  old  in  indo- 
lent habits ;  old  in  time  wasted  or  misused.  The  point  is 
to  ascertain  how  much  it  is  wise  to  retain  of  the  old,  how 
much  ought  to  become  new.  Perhaps  in  these  days  there 
is  more  danger  of  casting  off  too  much  of  the  old  than  there 
is  of  neglecting  to  adopt  the  new.  Change  is  the  cry  of 
the  day,  and  though  the  new  may  only  be  what  is  old,  new- 
cast  and  under  a  new  form,  still  there  is  the  restless  desire 
for  change,  and  the  extravagant  hope  that  all  good  is  to  be 
effected  and  all  evil  done  away  by  such  a  re-modelling  of 
things.  But  I  am  led  away  from  my  first  idea,  which  was 
rather  a  practical  and  moral  one — to  consider  within  our- 
selves how  the  fresh  stage  of  life  ought  to  be  a  new  one  in 
its  most  useful  sense.  Now  it  seems  to  me  a  clear  principle 
of  Christ  that  we  should  never  stand  still — never  feel  satis- 
fied we  are  doing  enough  ;  else  why  have  we  a  model  before 
us  of  perfection  we  never  can  reach,  if  it  be  not  to  stimulate 
us  onwards,  leading  us  on  step  by  step,  and  ever  keeping 
before  us  a  point  yet  further  to  be  attained,  both  to  keep  us 
humble  and  excite  us  to  action  ?  Each  year,  then,  should 
be  a  stage  of  advance  in  our  own  souls,  by  a  growth  in 
Christian  grace  and  a  weakening  of  natural  corruption,  and 
also  an  advance  in  the  work  we  are  called  to,  whatever  that 
work  may  be. 

"  When  I  look  back  on  the  mercies  of  the  past  year,  how 
ashamed  and  humbled  do  I  feel  to  think  how  my  heavenly 
Father  has  watched  over,  preserved,  and  blessed  me,  and 
how  little  I  have  given  Him  in  return — how  little  of  love — 
how  little  of  prayer — how  little  of  service  !  Yet  let  me  hope 
it  has  not  been  altogether  in  vain ;  that  some  few  seeds  of 
good  have  been  sowa  though  there  ought  to  have  been  an 

VOL.  i.  H  H 


466  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

abundance  of  them;  that  some  few  feelings  have  been 
strengthened  and  realised,  though  many  have  been  sluggish. 
Alas !  how  much  readier  we  are  to  dwell  upon  the  few 
miserable  little  grains  of  wheat  in  the  year  than  to  seek  out 
and  mourn  over  the  harvest  of  tares  !  How  much  more 
willingly  my  mind  turns  to  the  hope  that  I  have  acquired 
more  power  of  realising  to  myself  the  constant  presence  of 
God  my  Saviour,  than  it  does  to  the  more  certain  fact  of 
how  often  I  have  failed  in  trusting  and  believing — how  little 
I  have  shown  my  sense  of  His  presence 

.  .  .  .  "  One  thing  I  am  very  sensible  of  in  the  past 
year — a  great  increased  perception  of  the  variance  between 
the  principles  of  the  world  and  those  of  the  Bible.  The 
having  so  constantly  before  my  eyes  in  our  retired  life  and 
parochial  duties  the  higher  views  of  Christianity,  and  the 
reading  so  much  more  than  I  used  to  do  of  theological 
books,  and  so  much  less  of  worldly  publications,  has 
quickened  my  perception  of  the  difference,  so  as  to  strike 
me  forcibly,  either  when  mixing  with  others  or  reading  the 
literature  of  the  day.  But  perhaps  I  leave  out  the  chief 
cause — the  living  with  one  whose  whole  life  is  based  on 
Scripture  principles,  and  whose  whole  thoughts  and  practice 
are  alike  resting  on  that  sure  basis. 

"  How  little  am  I  duly  thankful  for  such  privileges  and 
blessings  as  God  has  bestowed  on  me,  in  my  situation  and 
in  my  most  precious  husband,  with  whom  I  have  been 
allowed  three  years  of  such  uninterrupted  happiness.  Oh, 
may  I  be  more  grateful,  more  loving,  more  faithful  to  Him 
who  gives  me  all  His  best  gifts  in  such  abundance,  and  may 
He  bless  them  to  us  both,  so  that  we  may  be  yearly  more 
devoted  to  His  service,  and  more  earnest  in  our  calling, 
not  forgetting,  whilst  we  strive  to  better  others,  that  we,  too, 
have  a  great  work  begun  which  has  to  be  perfected,  and  for 
which  we  must  not  cease  to  watch  and  pray  ! " 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  467 


M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  Jan.  5,  1833. — Our  New  Year's  Day  was  a  very 
happy  one.  After  church  prayers  (which  we  have  on  all 
saints'  days  and  occasional  services),  the  Sunday  school, 
fifty-six  in  number,  assembled  in  the  barn  to  receive  their 
prizes  for  their  tickets.  I  invited  the  Piles  and  Miss 
Miller  to  see,  and  whilst  I  sat  at  one  end  with  the  list 
of  names,  &c.,  Augustus  gave  to  each,  as  called,  his  or 
her  packet,  consisting  of  the  sum  for  their  tickets,  made  out 
in  scissors,  work-bags,  books,  handkerchiefs,  stockings,  &c. 
Being  the  first  reward-day  they  have  ever  had,  of  course 
it  was  thought  the  more  of.  We  made  them  a  speech,  and 
then  they  begged  to  sing  a  hymn  the  mistress  had  taught 
them  to  surprise  me,  and  away  they  went.  The  school- 
master, mistress,  the  clerk,  Gideon  and  his  wife,  and  our 
old  cook,  came  to  eat  beef  and  plum-pudding  with  our 
servants,  and  did  not  seem  least  pleased  with  Mr.  Hare's 
going  to  drink  their  healths,  and  wish  them  a  happy  new 
year  afterwards." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"Jan.  6,  1833. — The  beginning  of  another  year  of  life 
does  indeed  seem  overflowing  with  thoughts  and  feelings, 
mercies  past  for  which  we  cannot  feel  grateful  enough,  and 
opportunities  to  come  for  which  no  prayer  nor  faith  seems 
sufficiently  strong.  Last  year  we  began  the  year  with  cholera 
impending  over  our  heads,  revolution  threatening  us.  Now 
we  are  mercifully  freed  from  one  evil,  and  the  other  is  at 
least  for  a  time  removed  to  a  distance.  Still  so  weak  is 
my  faith,  that  I  am  afraid  I  look  back  with  greater  pleasure 
than  forward.  And  yet  the  same  God  and  Saviour  who  has 
been  with  us  through  the  one  will  no  less  surely  be  near  us 
through  the  other,  and  overrule  all  things  for  good.  You 


468  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

and  I  must,  of  course,  feel  differently  on  some  things  ;  and  I 
can  only  for  myself  personally  desire  to  have  a  continuance 
of  present  happiness,  with  greater  earnestness  and  zeal  in 
making  use  of  the  great  privileges  I  now  enjoy.  Still,  blest 
as  I  am,  could  Augustus  and  I  both  leave  the  world  to- 
gether, I  should  look  forward  to  the  moment  of  entrance 
into  eternity,  where  sin  does  not  dwell,  as  a  moment  to  be 
humbly  wished  for.  As  it  is,  since  one  may  be  taken  and  the 
other  left,  we  can  but  resign  ourselves  wholly  into  our  Mas- 
ter's hands,  and  entreat  him  to  make  our  will  one  with  His." 

"  /an.  21. — Let  me  tell  you  of  Augustus's  first  attempt  at 
what  in  Wickliffe's  time  was  called  Postilling.  It  was  luckily 
the  41  st  of  Isaiah  last  Sunday  morning,  such  a  fine  chapter, 
and  his  exposition  was  so  plain,  being  extempore  and  from 
the  desk,  that  I  think  many  must  have  learnt  much.  He 
prefaced  it  by  telling  them  how  Scripture  used  to  be  thus- 
explained  till  man  perverted  the  practice,  and  that  was 
no  reason  its  advantage  should  be  now  lost,  after  so  many 
years.  He  told  them  a  good  deal  about  the  nature  of  the 
Prophecy,  and  the  different  senses  it  bore,  and  the  diffi- 
culties attaching  to  it,  and  how  its  perfect  completion  was 
probably  not  yet  come.  I  suppose  it  was  quite  as  long  as  a 
sermon,  and  the  people  were  most  attentive.  We  had  the 
real  sermon,  as  usual,  in  the  evening." 

"  Feb.  2. —  ...  I  am  so  glad  that  accident  has  brought 
A.  and  C.  together  again.  All  my  observation  has  always 
confirmed  me  in  my  belief,  that  half  our  harsh  and  un- 
charitable judgments  of  others  would  be  removed  could  we 
but  look  into  the  windings  of  their  hearts,  and  see  all  they 
had  to  contend  with,  and  how  much  more  of  wheat  lay 

beneath  the  tares  than  we  should  outwardly  guess 

It  is  well,  perhaps,  that  we  differ  in  some  points,  for  I  am 
afraid  you  are  inclined  to  set  us  up  far  too  high  on  your 
shelf.  The  many  little  rubs  of  opinion  which  would  occur 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  469 

in  living  together,  do  not  arise  in  absence,  and  only  what 
we  have  in  common  comes  out ;  so  that  in  thinking  of  us, 
you  are  too  apt  to  associate  all  that  you  delight  in,  and  not 
to  feel  that  were  you  here,  perhaps  you  might  find  many 
things  you  would  not  agree  in  or  altogether  approve." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  ...  The  next  time  I  clear  out  the  '  Chambers  of 
Imagery,'  I  mil  examine  well  and  see  whether  there  is  any 
foundation  for  the  accusation,  that  I  put  you  on  too  high 
a  shelf.  I  think  it  is  just  possible ;  but  as  I  shall  probably 
be  absent  nine  months  for  once  during  our  lives,  you  will 
allow  it  must  be  better  for  one's  growth  to  be  always  lifting 
up  one's  head  to  a  shelf  above,  rather  than  stooping  to  look 
on  one  below ;  and  it  is  in  your  power,  you  know,  dearest, 
to  make  this  mistake,  if  it  be  one,  useful  to  you,  and  equally 
so  to  me.  Let  it  make  you  aim  high ;  strive  to  be  all  in 
absence  I  fancy  you  are.  Whichever  of  us  be  foremost  in 
the  race,  let  the  other  '  urge  her  with  their  advancing  tread  ' 
(St.  Andrew's  Day, '  Christian  Year ').  Remember  you  have  a 
great  advantage  in  being  allowed  the  privilege  given  to  the 
'  Herald  Saints  of  old,'  going  forth  by  two  and  two ; 
whereas  some  are  those  in  the  situation  of  the  poor  man 
(Luke  viii.),  who,  when  he  had  been  cured,  and  had  once 
heard  the  voice  and  seen  the  countenance  of  His  blessed 
Master,  pleaded  hard  to  remain  with  Him,  but  was  refused 
with  that  striking  answer,  '  Return  to  thy  house.'  Christ 
will  not  always  let  us  remain  close  to  Him.  He  sends  us 
away  to  work  in  a  corner  of  the  vineyard,  where  there  are 
perhaps  few  who  can  join  in  our  song.  He  will  see 
whether  our  love  is  true,  and  is  it  not  enough  to  make  us 
work  on,  and  joyfully,  when  we  do  know  that  the  Master's 
eye  is  ever  on  us,  though  we  see  it  not." 


470  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Feb.  9,  1833. — Yesterday,  about  three  o'clock,  your  poor 
friend  Mary  Browne  breathed  her  last,  and  I  trust  exchanged 
her  sorrowing  and  weak  earthly  tabernacle  for  'the  Con- 
queror's song.'  I  was  with  her  about  ten  minutes  before  the 
end,  when  she  was  perfectly  sensible,  and  knew  me  as  1 
stood  beside  the  bed.  She  lifted  up  her  hand  when  I 
uttered  a  prayer  for  her,  and  muttered  with  her  lips,  but 
could  scarcely  articulate.  Her  cough  has  been  very  bad  for 
some  time,  but  there  was  no  change  to  excite  any  alarm  till 
a  few  days  ago,  when  she  took  to  her  bed,  and  has  not  been 
up  since.  From  the  last  Sunday  I  thought  she  would 
scarcely  get  up  again,  and,  as  you  may  guess,  have  been 
every  day  to  read  to  her,  but  a  dying-bed  admits  in  most 
cases  of  but  little  spiritual  assistance.  I  have  in  the  last 
year  attended  four,  and  certainly  the  impression  left  by  all 
has  been  how  little  in  general  a  person  in  so  great  a  state  of 
bodily  suffering  is  capable  of  thought  or  attention  to  the 
concerns  of  their  souls,  more  especially  amongst  the  poor,  to 
whom  mental  exertion  is  at  all  times  so  difficult.  With 
respect  to  poor  Mary,  all  that  she  was  able  to  bear  or  follow 
was  select  verses  such  as  she  knew  before,  and  chiefly 
ejaculatory  ones  out  of  the  Psalms,  and  the  hymn  of  which 
you  sent  her  two  verses,  which  she  knew  quite  well.  I  hope 
and  believe  her  mind  was  more  at  peace  for  the  last  two 
days  than  she  had  been  previously,  and  she  expressed  her 
readiness  to  go  and  trust  that  she  would  be  happy,  while 
still  lifting  up  her  heart  in  prayer  and  beseeching  that  for- 
giveness of  which  she  so  much  felt  the  need To  me 

there  is  a  feeling  quite  beyond  describing  in  standing  beside 
one  hovering  between  this  world  and  the  next  as  she  was 
yesterday;  seeing  the  struggle  of  the  earthly  frame,  and 
knowing  that  the  spirit,  still  alive  to  visible  things,  will  in  a 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  471 

short  time  have  fled  to — where — we  know  not :  that  in  so  brief 
a  moment  all  that  is  invisible  and  unknown  to  us  is  before 
her;  that  she  whom  one  has  so  long  taught  in  heavenly 
things  will  know  so  infinitely  more  than  we  do.  She  knew 
Augustus,  and  fixed  her  eyes  on  him  as  he  prayed  by  her 
very  earnestly.  He  went  up  the  hill,  and  returned  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  after,  and  all  was  over.  She  has  so  long  been  an 
object  of  interest,  that  it  seems  quite  a  blank  to  think  one 
shall  never  see  her  sitting  in  the  chimney-corner  again,  or 
have  to  cheer  her  sad  grey  eye  with  the  blessed  promises  of 
Scripture.  Hers  was  a  very  extraordinary  case.  I  cannot 
quite  make  it  out ;  but  latterly  I  have  rarely  adverted  to  her 
own  feelings,  thinking  it  better  to  lead  them  forward  than 
allow  of  retrospect ;  so  that  I  cannot  exactly  say  how  she 
felt,  but  not  I  think  till  the  last  two  days  essentially  different 
from  what  you  remember  her.  There  was  then  more  of 
resignation  than  of  joy  or  hope  I  think,  but  I  am  satisfied 
there  was  much  of  bodily  infirmity  in  her,  and  I  always 
think  of  her  in  the  seventy-eighth  Psalm — '  Will  the  Lord 
cast  off  for  ever,'  &c.,  '  and  I  said  this  is  my  infirmity.' 

"  I  am  always  so  struck  by  the  different  ways  of  consider- 
ing death,  and  the  light  and  indifferent  tone  in  which  it  is 
spoken  of  by  those  people  to  whom  it  ought  really  to  be  a 
subject  of  terror,  one  should  suppose  they  looked  on  it 
as  they  would  on  that  of  an  animal,  to  hear  it  spoken  of  as 
it  is  by  many ;  but  the  fact  is  that  what  is  beyond  is  to 
them  no  reality,  but  so  vague  an  impression,  it  exercises  no 
influence  over  their  ordinary  modes  of  thinking  and  speak- 
ing. How  can  one  be  thankful  enough  for  the  glorious 
hope  held  out  to  us,  for  the  privilege  of  knowing  and  feeling 
the  truth!" 

"Feb.  12. — Your  letter  to  poor  Mary  Browne  must  have 
been  written  nearly  at  the  time  she  was  breathing  her  last 
m  this  world,  On  Monday  I  took  it.  and  with  the  Master 


472  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

went  to  find  John  Browne,  who  was  at  work  in  our  field, 
and  there,  getting  under  shelter  from  the  high  wind,  read 
(with  some  difficulty,  I  confess)  your  letter  to  him.  He  said 
it  was  a  beautiful  letter,  turning  away  his  face  that  we  might 
not  see  his  tears,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and  I  promised 
to  go  and  read  it  to  him  again  some  day  when  he  was  at 

dinner,  that  Polly  might  hear  it I  fully  intended  to 

have  gone  to  the  funeral,  and  was  ready  waiting  for  it,  when 
so  violent  a  storm  of  rain  and  thunder  came  on  just  at  the 
time  that  I  could  not  go  ;  but  I  saw  them  from  the  window, 
and  thought  how  poor  Mary's  spirit  was  rejoicing  perhaps, 
instead  of  entering  the  church  as  on  former  occasions  cast 
down  and  disquieted  within  her.  Only  one  Sunday  before 
the  last  she  was  in  her  corner  at  church  wishing  probably 
for  that  peace  which  she  has  now  entered.  You  cannot 
think  how  much  I  seem  to  miss  her,  having  for  so  long  been 

an  object  of  interest,  and  her  last  illness  was  so  short 

Sometimes  when  I  look  back  on  my  Stoke  life  and  my 
feelings  as  M.  L.,  I  can  hardly  believe  in  my  own  identity. 
Either  that  time  or  this  appears  to  have  been  a  dream,  I 
hardly  know  which,  but  quite  as  often  the  latter  as  the 
former,  and  I  have  at  times  a  very  strong  impression  of  the 
time  to  come  when  the  dream  will  be  over.  But  in  oui. 
brighter  moments  of  faith,  one  can  look  forward  without 
trembling,  with  perfect  confidence  in  that  blessed  Saviour 
who  has  thus  far  guided  us  in  safety,  and  will  not,  we  feel 
assured,  leave  nor  forsake  any  who  look  to  Him,  and  Him 
only." 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

AlderZey,  Feb.  12,  1833. — Poor,  and  yet  most  happy  Mary 
Browne,  I  had  no  idea  her  end  was  so  near.  Every  night 
when  I  have  gone  to  bed,  for  the  last  ten  days,  I  have 
arranged  my  lamp  so  that  its  light  might  fall  on  the  white 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  473 

cottage  in  your  picture  which  hangs  within  my  bed.  I  little 
guessed  that  her  spirit  had  already  fled  while  I  was  praying 
that  she  might  be  comforted.  How  glorious  a  change  for 
her,  for  of  her  safety  I  trust  we  need  have  no  doubts.  For 
you,  my  Mia,  it  must  be  very  good  to  live  the  life  you  are 
now  leading,  and  twenty  years  more  of  such  daily  experience 
in  yourself  and  others  will,  I  think,  prove  a  truer  and  better 
key  to  the  right  meaning  of  the  seventh  of  Romans  than 
any  searching  into  man's  writings  or  critical  examinings.  .  .  . 
My  own  Mia,  you  know  how  I  may  say  your  earthly 
happiness  is  mine,  so  vividly  do  I  enjoy  it  with  and  for  you ; 
but  do  you  know  that  it  is  my  reserved  comfort  to  think  that  if 
now  God  were  to  cloud  over  a  part  or  even  the  whole  of  that 
happiness,  I  could  even  then  think  of  you  without  trembling ; 
and  this  is  as  much  my  prayer  as  for  the  continuing  of  that 
happiness  ;  and  may  that  God  and  Saviour  who  has  guided 
you  so  far  bless  you  both  still,  and  pour  into  all  our  hearts 
more  and  more  of  that  most  excellent  gift  of  charity  that  we 
may  bear  all  things,  believe  all  things,  hope  all  things,  and 
endure  all  things." 

"  Feb.  20. — There  is  no  command  oftener  sounding  in 
my  ears  than  this,  '  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that 
they  may  see  your  good  works.'  Every  day  I  see  how  it 
is  the  more  necessary  for  the  lamp  to  burn  steadily  and 
brightly,  for  the  conduct  to  be  consistent,  uncompromising, 
and  gentle ;  for  often  perhaps,  when  a  word  would  not  be 
borne,  an  act  of  forbearance  or  self-denial  might  be  re- 
membered in  a  cooler  moment.  Yet  so  often,  when  my 
tree  is  shaken,  does  there  often  tumble  down  a  crab ;  any 
one  might  be  forgiven  for  doubting  the  care  and  attention  I 
pay  to  the  root.  I  fear,  by  nature,  it  was  such  an  uiveterate 
crab,  it  requires  a  fresh  graft  every  year  to  make  it  bear 
any  fruit." 


474  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


M.  H.'s  JOURNAL— ("  The  Green  Book  "). 

"  March  4. — I  seem  to  myself  to  have  got  a  clearer  notion 
lately  of  the  different  steps  which  are  attained  in  religious 
progress,  and  a  difficulty  I  have  felt  in  reconciling  what  I 
see  with  what  I  read  in  Scripture  seems  to  be  diminished. 
There  are  two  distinct  classes,  say  the  Evangelicals,  those  who 
serve  God  and  those  who  serve  Him  not,  and  I  see  and 
acknowledge  the  truth.  Still  one  cannot  look  around  with- 
out feeling  there' are  many  who  are  far  removed  from  being 
indifferent  or  careless  as  to  their  duty — who  do  sincerely 
desire  to  do  it,  and  to  a  certain  degree  do  serve  God  more 
than  the  world,  and  yet  that  these  same  people  are  equally 
far  perhaps  from  that  simplicity  and  reality  of  Christian 
faith  which  makes  Christ's  service  and  his  yoke  a  delight* 
and  a  joy  to  them.  Now  may  it  not  be  that  such  persons 
are  in  fact  Jews  in  heart  and  practice  ?  Of  God  they  have 
a  reverence  and  fear — they  serve  Him  outwardly,  they 
acknowledge  Him  inwardly — but  of  love  as  a  principle  of 
action  .they  are  as  yet  ignorant,  consequently  their  religious 
service  consists  in  outward  acts.  Of  Christ  as  a  Saviour  and 
Mediator  they  rarely  think,  and  consider  the  reference  to 
Him  as  the  great  cause  of  our  hope  and  dependence,  as 
rather  of  a  fanatical  spirit.  In  such  persons  year  passes 
after  year  and  no  change  is  visible ;  the  same  round  of  duties 
is  performed,  but  the  spirit  which  should  animate  them  con- 
tinues dormant,  nor  do  their  worldly  thoughts  or  opinions 
betray  any  symptoms  of  leavening.  Of  such  persons  it  is 
untrue  to  say  that  they  despise  or  are  regardless  of  God  ;  but 
their  service  is  one  of  fear,  and  their  creed  scarcely  less 
enlightened  than  that  of  a  Jew.  People  do  not  consider 
what  it  is  that  distinguishes  Christianity  from  Judaism,  and 
fancy  themselves  Christians  before  they  have  left  the  old 
slavery  of  the  letter  and  form." 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  475 

It  was  in  March,  1833,  that  a  bad  cold,  affecting  the  throat, 
and  a  violent  cough,  formed  the  beginning  of  the  illness  from 
which  Augustus  Hare  never  recovered.  A  slight  paralysis 
of  the  nerves  on  one  side  of  the  face  caused  severe  bleeding 
to  be  resorted  to,  which  materially  weakened  the  system. 
For  some  weeks  he  was  confined  to  the  house,  and  his  mind 
was  filled  with  anxiety.  Mrs.  Stanlev  wrote  from  Alderley 
urgently  desiring  to  come  and  assist  in  nursing  him ;  but 
to  this  he  refused  to  consent,  preferring  that  she  should 
postpone  her  visit  to  May,  when  he  hoped  to  be  well  and 
able  to  enjoy  it.  In  April,  all  anxiety  seemed  over,  and  he 
was  able  to  resume  his  parochial  duties,  and  delivered  an 
address  upon  his  first  reappearance  in  his  little  church, 
which  was  afterwards  printed  in  consequence  of  the  impres- 
sion it  made  upon  his  people.  During  his  illness  they  had 
shown  the  greatest  anxiety  about  him.  "  It  seems  as  if  one 
of  my  own  children  was  bad,  not  to  see  Mr.  Hare  about," 
said  one  ; — and  when  he  was  recovering — "  I  be  just  about 
glad  Mr.  Hare's  better,  for  he  is  a  good  friend  to  all  of  we." 

A.  W.  H.  to  the  People  of  Alton  (Address  in  Alton-Barnes  Church). 

"  Indeed,  brethren,  I  know  not  how  it  may  have  been 
with  you,  nor  whether  you  have  missed  me,  during  the  time 
I  have  been  kept  away  from  you  :  but  I  can  truly  say,  that 
I  have  missed  you.  I  have  missed  the  well-filled  benches 
near  me ;  I  have  missed  the  familiar  faces  in  the  gallery ;  I 
have  missed  the  delight  of  praying  with  you,  and  the  pleasure 
of  instructing  you.  At  the  season  of  the  great  festivals,  and 
especially  during  Passion  Week  and  Easter,  the  spirit  of  the 
coldest  Christian  is  moie  alive  than  at  other  times.  It  is 
impossible  to  hear  the  history  of  Christ's  sufferings, — how 
He  was  scourged,  and  nailed  to  a  cross,  and  left  to  hang 


47^  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

there  till  He  died,  amid  the  mocks  and  laughter  of  the  by- 
standers,— it  is  impossible  for  men  to  hear  all  this  with  their 
ears,  and  to  have  it  almost  brought  before  their  eyes,  and  to 
know  that  Jesus  went  through  it  all  for  their  sakes,  that  they 
might  be  forgiven,  and  might  live, — it  is  hardly  possible  for 
anybody  to  hear  all  this  without  having  his  heart  burn 
within  him.  These  then  are  the  seasons  when  the  minister 
who  loves  his  people  has  most  pleasure  in  speaking  to  them 
and  teaching  them.  He  loves  to  strike  while  the  iron  is 
hot,  while  the  heart  is  moved  and  softened,  in  the  hope  that 
at  such  a  time,  by  God's  grace,  his  words  may  sink  deeper. 
And  yet  it  was  just  at  this  particular  season,  when  I  should 
so  much  have  enjoyed  being  with  you,  that  it  pleased  God 
to  affect  me  with  sickness,  to  separate  me  for  a  time  from 
you,  my  people  and  friends.  Do  not  suppose  I  murmur  at 
this  dispensation :  far  from  it.  God  knows  best  what  means 
and  what  instruments  to  employ  for  the  conversion  and  in- 
struction of  his  people.  If  I  had  been  in  health,  you  would 
have  been  taught  by  me  alone.  As  it  is,  you  have  had  the 
advantage  of  hearing  different  teachers ;  and  it  may  be,  the 
words  of  some  of  them  may  have  sunk  deeper  in  some  minds, 
and  have  done  them  more  good,  than  anything  I  should  have 
said,  if  I  had  preached  to  you.  If  it  be  so,  God  be  praised  for 
it !  Yea,  God  be  praised  for  my  sickness,  even  if  it  had  been 
more  severe,  if  it  be  the  means  of  calling  any  one  among  you 
to  a  knowledge  of  His  saving  will !  But  still  it  did  grieve 
me  much,  that  I  could  not  be  praying  with  you  and  teach- 
ing you.  Never  did  the  little  church  appear  more  beautiful 
in  my  eyes  than  on  those  Sundays,  while  I  looked  at  it  with 
a  melancholy  pleasure,  and  watched  you  as  you  went  into 
God's  house,  or  returned  from  it.  Truly,  at  such  times,  I 
could  well  have  said  with  David,  '  How  amiable,  how  lovely 
are  thy  tabernacles,  thou  Lord  of  Hosts  !  My  soul  hath  a 
desire  and  longing  to  enter  into  the  courts  of  the  Lord.' " 


THE    SHADOW   OF   THE   CLOUD.  477 


M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"March  27. — 'Shall  we  receive  good  and  not  evil  at  the 
hands  of  our  Father  ? '  Well  may  we  feel  that,  bright  as  our 
sunshine  is  and  has  been  from  year's  end  to  year's  end,  we 
may  endure,  and  bless  God  that  He  has  thought  fit  for  a 
brief  space  to  send  this  cloud  to  overshadow  our  joy,  and 
make  us  more  fully  sensible  how  dependent  it  is  upon  His 
good  pleasure.  Now,  when  it  has  pleased  Him  to  bless  the 
means  used  and  give  us  again  a  gleam  of  sunshine,  I  begin 
to  feel  more  what  a  fearful  dream  I  have  been  in  for  some 
days  past,  and  I  do  more  fully  cast  myself  before  His 
throne,  who  might,  had  He  seen  fit,  have  chastened  me  so 
much  more  severely.  My  precious  treasure  looks  still  very 
ill,  and  coughs  sadly.  Many  an  anxious  moment  yet  remains 
before  I  can  feel  sure  that  it  will  please  his  heavenly  Phy- 
sician to  restore  him  to  former  vigour  and  health ;  but  there 
is  so  much  improvement,  I  indulge  a  hope  he  will  be  able  to 
bless  me  and  his  people,  and  do  such  little  humble  service 
as  he  can  render  his  Master  on  earth.  His  own  mind  has 
never  for  a  moment  been  disturbed  ;  it  has  been  calm  and 
serene  as  the  most  peaceful  lake." 

"  March  28. — God  be  praised  my  mind  is  now  at  ease, 
and  the  cloud  is  breaking  fast  and  letting  the  sun  shine 
through  again." 

"  April  2. —  ...  I  have  felt  during  my  anxiety  that  I 
could  not  utter  long  prayers  or  well  connected  ones ;  but 
that  my  whole  life  was  a  continual  prayer,  and  for  this 
reason  I  rejoiced  to  be  alone.  When  I  was  not  in  the 
room  with  my  beloved  Aug.,  which  was  only  at  mealtimes, 
and  when  I  went  out  into  the  garden  for  a  short  time, 
I  felt  I  was  alone  with  Him  who  could  help,  and  would 
assuredly  strengthen  if  I  asked;  and  though  I  could  not  feel 
ready  and  submissive  to  resign  all  at  his  bidding,  I  did  pray 


MEMORIALS    OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 


most  sincerely  to  be  enabled  more  and  more  to  be  brought 
to  this,  and  that  the  present  warning  might  in  this  way  be 
blest  to  us  both.  I  am  certain  I  was  able  to  go  on  better 
from  having  no  one,  no  not  the  nearest  and  dearest  friend 
to  speak  to  and  dwell  upon  the  circumstances  when  at  liberty 
and  leisure  to  do  so.  When  I  was  not  engaged  with  him,  it 
was  far  better  to  be  thrown  upon  one's  own  reflections,  which 
naturally  led  one  above  this  world  to  seek  His  grace  and 
comfort,  who  will  hear,  however  weak  and  faithless  our 
petitions  are,  and  miserably  weak  one  does  feel  at  such  a 
time.  ....  And  now  that  it  has  pleased  our  Lord  to 
take  away  His  chastening  hand  and  restore  to  us  our  bright 
earthly  happiness,  you  must  pray  for  us,  my  own  Luce,  that 
we  may  not  forget  how  thankful  we  should  be.  Now, 
indeed,  there  is  no  fear  of  it,  with  the  remembrance  of  the 
anxiety  so  lately  felt  ;  but  our  hearts  too  soon  get  used  to 
their  blessings,  and  forget  how  easily  and  how  readily  they 
may  be  taken  away." 

"  You  may  think  how  sad  it  is  to  have  Easter  without  its 
usual  minister  to  officiate,  no  Wednesday's  service,  and  no 
evening  lectures.  Last  night,  for  the  first  time,  he  read  a 
few  verses  and  a  collect  to  the  servants,  but  with  so  trem- 
bling a  voice  he  could  scarce  get  through  that,  and  it  made 
him  cough  so  that  I  fear  it  will  be  long  before  he  will  be 
fit  for  Sunday  duty." 

"Easter  Tuesday.  —  My  darling  Augustus  is  going  on 
well.  I  wished  for  you  so  on  Friday.  Half  an  hour  before 
afternoon  church,  Mr.  Majendie  came.  Augustus  and  I 
had  arranged  the  room  ready,  and  he  administered  thft 
blessed  bread  and  wine  to  Marcus,  Mary,  Augustus,  and 
me,  and  you  may  suppose  all  we  felt  in  so  receiving  it,  with 
the  prayer  appointed  for  sick  persons  .....  Marcus  went 
yesterday  :  he  is  one  of  few  words,  but  loves  us  much.'' 


THE    SHADOW   OF   THE    CLOUD.  479 


L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  March  29. — I  need  not  tell  you  how  I  have  suffered 
with  you  in  these  days.  I  have  indeed  felt,  what  I  always 
said,  that  in  one  affliction  I  should  be  to  you  a  miserable 
comforter,  and  what  else  cot\ld  the  dearest  and  most  sym- 
pathizing friend  be  ?  Well  it  is  for  us  that  there  is  a  friend 
whose  ear  is  open  to  the  feeblest  call  for  help,  and  whose 
power  to  give  that  help  is  all-mighty.  We  must  not  forget 
under  whose  hand  we  are  fainting.  Though  a  grievous  east 
wind  has  for  a  little  season  blighted  your  beautiful  gourd,  let 
us  lift  up  our  hearts  in  humble  and  cheerful  confidence,  and 
rest  them  on  Him  who  doth  never  afflict  willingly  or  grieve 
His  children.  Perhaps  after  four  years  of  such  unvaried 
happiness,  some  little  check  was  necessary,  to  remind  you 
more  strongly  that  there  is  danger  in  giving  all  our  affections 
to  one  created  blessing,  however  precious  and  love-worthy 
that  blessing  may  be.  You  do  not  feel  now  you  could  say, 

*  Thy  will  be  done,'  and  yet  it  is  what  God  will  have  his 
children  say,  even  when  he  takes  away  their  all.     It  is 
perhaps  good  that  you  should  be  obliged  to  contemplate 
what  nature  shrinks  from  as  too  hard  to  bear,  and  though 
you  cannot  now  pray  long  or  connected  prayers,  your  whole 
day  must  be  a  striving  in  prayer,  to  be  conformed  to  God's 
will  and  to  have  none  but  His;  and  when  our  beloved 
Augustus  recovers,  though   you   thought  you   loved  God 
before,  you  may  find  that  this  was  wanting,  though  by  your 
own  heart  only  the  lesson  may  be  known.     I  am  so  glad 

*  Marcus '  is  coming  to  you.    Tell  the  dear  Augustus  I  have 
great  faith  in  the  simple  united  prayers  of  a  loving  parish, 
and  if  no  church  can  be  opened,  the  prayers  offered  up  by 
his  people  for  his  recovery  in  their  separate  cottages  or  at 
their  work  will  avail  much." 

"  Alderley,  April  8,  1833. — I  feel  that  you  know  all  I  have 


480  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

been  thinking  in  the  last  week,  for  our  hearts  will  have  been 
offering  up  their  tribute  of  joy  and  gratitude  and  humilia- 
tion at  the  same  gracious  throne,  and  gaming  from  the 
contemplation  of  our  Saviour's  sufferings  and  glorious 
resurrection  fresh  supplies  of  strength,  to  go  on  our  way 
rejoicing  'with  fear  and  great  joy/  as  the  Marys  did 
when  they  found  the  sepulchre  empty  and  Jesus  risen 
—fear  lest  we  should  not  sufficiently  honour  and  care- 
fully follow  such  a  Master,  and  '  great  joy '  because  we 
know  and  are  assured  that  in  those  dreadful  hours  of  suffer- 
ing He  bore  the  punishment  we  each  and  every  one  must 
have  incurred ;  and  it  is  not  the  least  thing  we  have  to  be 
grateful  for,  that  we  live  in  these  days,  when  eighteen 
hundred  years  have  gone  on  proving  the  truth  of  our 
Saviour's  words,  and  gradually  and  to  the  letter  so  fully 
accomplishing  all  things,  that  we  may  almost  wonder  how 
it  is  our  faith  ever  wavers,  or  how  such  a  miserable  being  as 
an  unbeliever  or  doubter  can  still  exist.  I  sometimes 
think  if  one  could  but  show  to  any  one  the  love,  the  peace, 
which  Jesus  can  create  in  our  hearts,  they  must  long  to  feel 
it  too.  Yesterday  morning,  as  I  was  walking  through  the 
wood  to  church,  with  everything  in  nature  to  make  glad  the 
spirit — the  songs  of  the  birds,  the  myriads  of  flowers,  the 
bright  sun — I  thought  how  many  would  allow  it  was  de- 
lightful and  most  gladdening,  and  say  it  required  no  peculiar 
religion  to  feel  grateful  and  happy  while  the  senses  were 
under  such  an  influence ;  but  only  the  believer  knows  and 
can  testify  that  those  same  joyful  and  thankful  feelings, 
which  bring  tears  to  the  eye,  and  overflowing  gratitude  to 
the  heart,  can  be  felt  when  all  is  dark  and  dreary  around, 
when  the  animal  frame  is  under  no  sunny  influence,  and 
when  in  this  world  perhaps  our  way  must  be  lonely  and 
often  beset  with  thorns.  God's  sun  shines  most  warmly  on 
our  hearts  when  the  world's  sun  shines  least ;  and  who  that  has 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  481 

once  felt  its  reviving  rays  would  not  easily  spare  the  other's, 

if  it  be  his  Master's  will I  do  not  ever  remember 

passing  Passion  Week  in  so  peaceful  and  happy  a  frame  of 
mind  as  this  last  has  been.  I  could  hardly  have  felt  more  glad 
or  warmed  up  •  .and  whenever  I  was  at  prayer,  it  seemed  as 
if  the  thought  of  Augustus's  recovery  was  the  one  drop  to 
make  the  cup  overflow.  How  clear  it  is  that  the  Bible  was 
written  for  the  creatures  of  a  changing  world ;  if  we  had  no 
sin  to  mourn  over,  no  afflictions  to  wean  us,  half  its  pages 
would  lie  useless.  There  is  one  woman  in  the  Bible  whose 
example  comes  oftener  to  my  thoughts  than  any  other, 
because  hers  was  a  simple,  straightforward  faith  I  think  one 
might  attain,  and  should  if  one  aimed  higher — the  Shuna- 
mite — she  did  not  doubt  for  one  second  but  that  it  was  all 
well ;  but  it  is  so  difficult  to  feel  secure  with  God  when  a 
trouble  comes.  How  you  will  watch  over  your  gourd  when 
it  quite  revives  ;  but  remember,  dearest,  you  must  not  watch 
too  anxiously,  or  let  your  heart  beat  too  easily ;  the  best  way 
to  ensure  its  stay  with  you  will  be  to  trust  it  wholly  and 
calmly  in  God's  hands. 

"  I  think  I  helped  my  thoughts  very  much  the  last  week  to 
keep  singly  to  their  object,  by  carefully  reading  only  what  was 
clone  on  each  day,  and  as  far  as  possible  bringing  before 
myself  what  passed ;  then,  not  having  read  any  of  the 
chapters  before,  those  on  the  Resurrection,  with  all  connected, 
came  more  forcibly,  more  powerfully  home  on  Easter  Sun- 
day. I  do  not  think  in  the  round  of  life  there  is  a  moment 
more  overpowering,  more  thrilling,  than  when  the  organ 
peals  forth  accompanied  by  those  anthems  preceding  the 
collect — '  Christ,  our  Passover,  is  sacrificed  for  us.'  Oh,  we 
ought  to  be  very  joyful  all  the  year  round,  come  what  will 
on  our  journey,  when  we  think  what  our  home  will  be — 
who,  the  Friend,  the  Master,  preparing  our  mansions  in  it. 

'•'  Alderley  is  looking  most  beautiful.     The  wood  is  one 

VOL.  I.  II 


482  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


sheet  of  daffodils  and  anemones — larches  all  greening,  and 
every  hedge  ready  to  burst  into  full  leaf.  I  think  even 
Julius  would  allow  that  a  mass  of  young  larches,  in  their 
first  fortnight's  unsullied  coats,  is  a  refreshing  sight." 

M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"April  13,  1833. — Your  plan  was  exactly  one  we  were 
talking  of  one  day  as  so  useful — that  of  realising  more  the 
passing  events  of  our  holy  week ;  and  though  there  was 
no  church  service  except  on  the  Friday,  as  there  would  have 
been  had  the  pastor  been  among  his  people,  at  home  we 
got  our  little  chapters  and  prayers  in  the  evening.  Now  he 
is  weak  in  voice,  I  generally  read  the  verses,  and  then  he 
comments  on  them  after ;  he  reads  the  collects  and  prayers, 
and  I  say  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  so  we  jointly  get  through 

our  little  humble  service Augustus's  confinement 

and  inability  to  do  anything  is  more  trying  perhaps  now 
when  he  is  better  than  it  was  when  he  was  entirely  incapaci- 
tated ;  but  God's  will  must  be  ours,  and  his  time  ours,  and 
slight  indeed  is  the  trial  of  our  patience  He  at  present  sends. 
May  it  prepare  us  for  the  far  greater  that  may  one  day  be 
our  portion." 

"  April  21. — I  cannot  close  this  day — so  beautiful  with- 
out, and  so  full  of  thanksgiving  within — without  making  our 
dear  Luce  share  in  its  great  blessings.  The  sun  has  shone 
with  almost  a  summer  heat,  and  the  air,  for  the  first  time 
this  spring,  has  been  most  balmy  and  delicious,  as  if  to 
invite  the  dear  pastor  once  more  to  his  church.  He  was 
afraid  of  undertaking  a  full  service  or  the  whole  morning 
one,  so  got  Mr.  Caulfield  to  take  that  for  him ;  and  this 
afternoon  we  had  the  happiness  of  going  again  together  into 
God's  house.  Scarcely  could  I  restrain  my  tears  when  he 
entered  his  desk,  and  you  may  think  how  freely  they  flowed 
when,  before  the  general  thanksgiving,  he  rose  up  and  said 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  483 

that,  having  been  so  long  unable  from  illness  to  officiate  in 
that  place,  he  begged  now  to  offer  his  humble  and  hearty 
thanks  to  God  for  being  restored  again  to  health,  and  then 
in  the  customary  place  added,  '  especially  for  Thy  servant 
who  now  desires  to  return  thanks  for  thy  late  mercies 
vouchsafed  unto  him.'  ....  My  dear  Luce  will  need  but 
to  be  told  the  facts  of  to-day  to  lift  up  her  heart  in  joyful 
thanksgiving  with  us  for  the  mercy  God  has  shown  us  in 
thus  restoring  us  to  our  great  and  undeserved  happiness  j 
and  the  extreme  loveliness  of  the  day,  combining  to  fill  and 
soften  our  hearts,  has  made  it  one  continual  feeling  ol 
praise.  Once  more  did  we  take  our  walk  in  the  fields  after 
church,  enjoying  together  the  heavenly  day;  and  since 
dinner,  for  nearly  the  first  time,  I  took  my  way  down  your 
well-known  lane  and  up  the  Luce  path,  and  looked  down 
on  the  lovely  view,  with  a  beautiful  sunset  glowing  all 
round,  and  felt  that  heaven  would  indeed  be  on  earth  were 
all  within  as  beautiful  as  all  without,  if  in  those  peaceful 
cottages  there  were  no  sin,  and  all  were  love.  I  miss  sadly 
poor  Mary  Browne  in  her  chimney-corner,  to  speak  a  con- 
soling word  to  as  one  passes  by.  Patty  grinned  from  ear  to 
ear  as  she  expressed,  in  more  words  than  I  ever  heard  from 
her  before,  how  '  comfortable '  it  was  to  see  Mr.  Hare  in 
church  again.  Old  Hannah  Baillie  almost  cried  her  joy, 
though  it  was  evidently  saddened  by  his  looking  so  ill. 
The  other  day,  in  coming  across  the  field,  she  quick- 
ened her  step  most  gladly  at  hearing  him  call  her;  but 
her  countenance  soon  fell  as  she  turned  to  me — '  How 
bad  he  do  look ' — and  her  merry  eyes  did  not  get  back 
their  sparkle.  I  fear  the  dear  old  woman  is  weaken- 
ing in  bodily  strength,  but  if  she  ripens  in  spiritual,  one 
must  not  regret  it.  She  is  one  of  the  little  ones  whom  Christ 
will  not  despise ;  for  she  hath  given  of  her  two  talents,  two 
in  return." 


484  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

"  April 30. — The  dear  Augustus  has  been  getting  on,  though 
the  weather  since  those  two  warm  days  has  not  been  kindly 
to  him.  He  has  been  out  two  or  three  times  in  the  Dull 
carriage.  Stronger  he  certainly  is,  and  on  Sunday  morning, 
by  leaving  out  the  Commandments,  he  got  through  the 
whole  of  the  rest  of  the  service,  and  once  again  preached  to 
his  dear  people.  He  spoke  to  them  about  all  the  seasons 
that  had  passed  during  his  sickness,  and  his  feelings  during 
it,  in  such  a  way  as  to  melt  a  great  many  to  tears,  and  head 
after  head  sunk  down.  Such  occasions  it  is  a  great  pity  to 
waste ;  and  when  their  hearts  were  thus  full  of  affection  for 
him,  their  minister,  we  may  hope  his  words  were  blest  with 
more  than  usual  efficiency  to  their  souls.  He  got  through 
it  very  fairly  on  the  whole,  and  has  not  suffered  from  it. 
The  Sunday  before,  old  William  Hams  told  me  he  could 
not  help  crying  in  church  to  see  '  how  bad  he  did  look ;  but 
God  in  heaven  be  praised,  he  is  out  again.' " 

"May  Day. — To-day  we  are  to  have  all  the  men  of  the 
parish  to  hear  the  Rector's  new  plan  for  them — that  he  will 
pay  the  malt  duty  for  all  who  wish  to  brew  at  home.  Since 
he  formed  his  plan,  Parliament  seems  to  intend  taking  it  off; 
however,  that  will  not  be  for  a  year,  and  I  daresay  they  will 
not  value  his  thought  for  them  the  less." 

"  May  16. — I  am  sure  you  will  fancy  yourself  in  the  little 
church.  Now  Augustus  has  got  to  two  services  again ;  it 
seems  quite  like  old  times ;  and  yesterday,  Ascension  Day, 
we  had  prayers  and  a  '  postilling,'  as  usual.  What  weather 
this  is;  I  never  knew  so  enjoyable  a  May.  In  a  week 
everything  has  become  perfect  summer,  and  the  foliage  is 
quite  thick.  I  am  writing  to  the  music  of  a  swarm  of 
bees,  which,  as  usual,  have  betaken  themselves  to  our 
chimney." 

"  May  28. — Last  night  we  had  our  thanksgiving  supper, 
the  preface  to  which  v/as  the  verse  out  Nehemiah  viii.  10. 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  485 

Twelve  dear  old  people  thankfully  partook  of  '  the  portion 
prepared  for  them,'  and  expressed  much  joy  at  seeing  Mr. 
Hare  so  well  again.  To-day  the  grass  was  begun  to  be 
cut,  and  the  master  is  full  of  delight  at  the  thoughts  of  his 
haymaking.  The  orchard  was  all  down  by  six  o'clock,  and, 
alter  a  due  consultation  of  authorities,  the  croft  is  now  under 
Gideon's  hand  and  scythe," 

"June  3. — The  dear  Luce  had  her  full  share  of  our 
thoughts  and  wishes  in  the  happy  return  of  the  most  blessed 
2nd  of  June.  It  was  a  lovely  morning,  and,  weak  and  miser- 
able as  our  thanks  are,  I  did  feel  my  heart  overflow  with 
gratitude  in  thinking  of  the  four  years  of  perfect  and  unin- 
terrupted happiness  that  has  been  granted  to  us,  with,  lately, 
the  added  blessing  of  Augustus's  recovery  to  health.  Here, 
in  church,  with  all  the  delightful  service  and  Augustus's  two 
dear  sermons — one  in  the  morning,  the  other  at  the  six 
o'clock  evening  service,  on  the  Trinity — you  may  think 
whether  I  wished  or  longed  for  any  one  blessing  more, 
except  that  of  a  more  grateful  heart,  and  more  power  to 
utter  all  the  overflowings  of  one's  feelings.  It  is  a  great  delight 
having  the  Stanleys  here,  and  I  rejoice  that  K.  should  think 
Alton  a  loveable  place  and  a  haven  of  peace  and  rest  from 
worldly  cares  and  troubles." 


AUGUSTUS  W.  HARE  to  W.  W.  HULL,  Esq. 

"  April  19,  1833. — As  to  repenting  of  my  intention  of  ful- 
filling what  we  deem  to  have  been  our  aunt's  wishes  as  to  the 
charities  in  her  will,  if  I  have  anything  to  repent  of  it  is  of 
my  pride — supposing  it  to  be  pride ;  but  I  hope  it  is  a  joyful 
thankful  feeling,  miscalled  pride,  that  two  of  the  three  sub- 
scribers besides  myself  to  this  charity  fund  should  be  my 
own  dear  brothers.  And  Francis  would  have  been  of  the 
party  toe,  but  for  scruples  of  delicacy,  and  a  notion  that,  by 


486  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


joining  to  pay  the  charities,  we  are  practically  censuring  and 
assuming  a  sort  of  superiority  over  those  of  my  aunt's  heirs 
h'ho  do  not  contribute,  and  who  happen  to  be  at  least  as 
numerous  as  ourselves,  to  say  nothing  of  his  having  already 
given  up  three-fourths  of  his  share  to  the  person  for  whom 
he  believed  my  aunt  designed  it.  I  ought  to  add,  that  our 
fourth  contributor  is  our  cousin  Mrs.  Dashwood.  We  give 
^£250  apiece,  because  we  see  that  our  aunt  in  every  will  set 
apart  a  portion  for  public  charities,  which  seems  to  us  to 
manifest  a  settled  purpose ;  and  as  the  money  was  hers  to  do 
what  she  pleased  with,  we  hold  that  we  ought  to  be  thankful 
for  such  a  portion  of  her  property  as  she  chose  to  give  to  us, 
her  own  relations.  For  the  rest,  it  is  not  ours,  we  conceive, 
and  therefore  we  feel  ourselves  bound  to  apply  it  according 
to  her  supposed  intentions.  On  examining  the  various 
memoranda  we  determined  that  we  would  take  the  ^4,000 
(a  sixteenth  of  her  property)  as  our  standard,  and  our  con- 
'tributions  accordingly  are  in  that  proportion.  We  four  con- 
tributors have  received  between  us  a  fourth  of  her  property, 
and  we  contribute  ^£1,000  between  us;  and  I  do  feel  joy 
and  thankfulness  that  Julius  should  have  been  the  great 
promoter  of  the  scheme,  instead  of  saying,  '  Oh,  if  there 
had  been  a  will  I  should  have  had  double  or  triple ; '  while 
Marcus,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  came  to  the 
same  conclusion  after  consuhing-jvith  his  own  heart,  and 
determined,  long  before  he  heard  our  scheme,  to  give  his 
money  himself,  let  others  do  as  they  might.^ 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"  Leamington,  May  2,  1833. — Yesterday  we  went  to  visit 
our  Wesleyan  Methodist  friend,  Mr.  Whitehead.  Do  you 
remember  in  our  favourite  tract  it  says,  how  much  easier  it 
is  to  talk  of  religion  than  to  talk  religiously  ?  He  does  the 
latter I  see  that  the  holy  Calvinist  and  the  holy 


THE    SHADOW    OF   THE   CLOUD.  487 

Methodist  walk  on  the  extreme  sides  of  the  narrow  path 
and  yet  their  eye  is  on  the  same  object,  their  hand  on  the 
same  staff,  and  if  either  faint  or  fall  the  same  words  of  Hope 
and  Comfort  lift  them  up.  It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  this 
strongly  when  living  with  Christians  who  are  one  in  spirit, 
but  two  in  doctrine. 

"  This  is  the  first  true  summer  day,  so  very  lovely,  and 
'  while  the  earth  herself  is  adorning  this  sweet  May  morning,' 
I  am  unfolding,  like  a  leaf,  under  the  sun's  influence,  and 
thinking  how,  if  we  lived  more  in  prayer  and  praise,  more 
habitually  grateful  for  the  never-dying  hope  of  a  Christian, 
we  should  feel  all  the  year  round  something  as  we  feel  on 
such  a  morning  as  this ;  but  we  cannot  have  all  here, 
and  must  rejoice  as  we  can  in  our  poor  little  houses 
of  clay." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S.  (after  her  leaving  Alton). 

"  June  4,  1833. — The  house  seemed  very  dull  without 
you  all  yesterday,  and  yet  the  returning  to  our  old  ways 
makes  it  rather  like  a  bright  vision  than  a  reality  that  you 
have  been  here  at  all.  We  had  a  charming  drive  to  Man- 
ningford  in  the  evening,  though  it  was  tantalising  enough  to 
exchange  it  for  a  dinner  party,  even  with  such  a  sight  as 
Miss  Elizabeth  Penmddocke  in  lilac  hat  and  feathers, 
yello\v  lined  cape,  and  a  bright  green  gown." 

C.  S.  to  JI.  H. 

"  Mah'crn,  June  9,  1833. — We  reached  Devizes  from 
Alton  in  forty  minutes,  and  as  the  rich  unbroken  country  on 
the  other  side  passed  before  our  eyes,  we  determined  thai 
Alton  was  far  more  interesting,  far  more  desirable — in  fact, 
its  external  is  but  a  type  of  its  internal  character,  all  so 
separated,  isolated,  cut  off  from  the  surrounding  world; 
while  in  all  other  places  there  seems  such  a  mingling  that 
there  is  no  saying  where  one  ends  and  the  other  begins." 


488  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


M.  H.  to  L.  A.  S. 

"  Stoke,  June  24,  1833. — Stoke  looks  very  pretty,  and  we 
are  very  happy  here ;  it  is  such  a  pleasure  to  see  the  old 
man  of  eighty  as  young  and  sprightly  as  if  he  were  twenty. 
....  It  seems  so  odd  seeing  and  knowing  so  little  of  the 
people,  and  I  feel  quite  ashamed  of  myself  in  having  for- 
merly been  so  little  amongst  them,  and  having  lived  so 
dreamy  a  life,  for  myself  always.  The  shadow  of  M.  L. 
haunts  me  here  and  there,  and  strangely  bewilders  me 
sometimes  in  the  changed  feelings  of  M.  H.  I  suppose  I 
shall  never  quite  lose  the  mixture  here,  but  the  result  is  a 
most  thankful  feeling  and  a  strong  sense  of  increased 
responsibility." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Stoke,  June  26,  1833. — Julius  has  arrived  in  England 
from  Italy,  and  talks  of  coming  here  for  a  day  on  his  road 
to  Cambridge  !  He  is  much  delighted  with  the  thought  of 
Augustus  and  Marcus  having  furnished  his  dining-room  for 
him.  '  My  parsonage  will  certainly  be  held  out  as  an 
example  of  the  luxury  of  the  clergy.  And  now  I  shall  be 
able  to  sit  at  my  solitary  mutton  chop,  with  my  Atlantian 
sideboard  to  bear  three  knives  and  two  forks,  and  with 
eleven  splendid  morocco  chairs  stuck  round  the  room,  call- 
ing for  ghosts  to  come  and  sit  on  them.  My  aunts,  too,  are 
going  to  bedizen  my  drawing-room.  I  have  everything  I 
can  want,  just  as  if  I  had  Fortunatus's  cap  without  the 
trouble  of  wishing;  but  the  heart-gladdening  part  of  the 
matter  is  that  the  wishes  are  anticipated  by  the  thoughtful 
affection  of  my  friends,  and  that  too  while  I  am  far  away. 
God  bless  you  all ;  would  I  were  worthy  of  you.' " 

Towards  the  end  of  July,  the  Augustus  Hares  went  to 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  489 

Alderley  Rectory,  and  while  they  were  there  Marcus  Hare 
was  invited  to  Alderley  Park,  which  he  left  engaged  to 
Lucy  Stanley,  the  beloved  friend  of  his  sister-in-law. 

L.  A.  S.  to  M.  H. 

"Alderley,  August  28,  1833. — My  heart  is  too  full.  It  is 
like  a  cup  full  to  the  brim,  and  I  am  afraid  of  letting  one 
drop  escape,  for  fear  the  whole  should  overflow.  The  only 
thing  I  am  sure  of  is,  that  amid  all  its  contending  feelings, 
a  sense  of  grateful  happiness  is  at  the  top,  and  that  I  may 
cheerfully  and  confidently  go  forward,  assured  that  the 
same  Father  and  Saviour  who  has  led  rne  thus  far,  will 
never  place  His  weak  and  strength-needing  child  in  any 
pasture  so  beautiful,  as  to  make  her  forget  the  everlasting 
home,  where  there  shall  be  neither  marrying  nor  giving  in 
marriage,  but  when,  as  St.  Mark's  hymn  ends, — 

'  The  saints  beneath  their  Saviour's  eye, 
Fill'd  with  each  other's  company, 
Shall  spend  in  love  th'  eternal  day.' " 

JULIUS  HARE  to  M.  H. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  September  9,  1833. — God  be  praised 
for  the  great  blessing  he  has  bestowed  on  our  dear  Marcus 
and  on  us  all !  I  know  you  will  deem  it  a  blessing  ;  so  will 
Augustus,  who  already  loved  Lucy  as  a  sister ;  and  I  feel  as 
if  it  will  also  be  a  very  great  one  to  me,  although  I  have 
hitherto  remained  in  the  background,  and  perhaps,  but  for 
this  marriage,  might  never  have  become  cordially  intimate 
with  her.  Meetings  of  two  or  three  days,  with  years  between 
them,  are  a  scanty  foundation  for  friendship  to  spring  from. 
Now,  however,  the  ice  is  broken  ;  she  will  assuredly  do  us 
all  much  good ;  and  I  hope  and  trust  that  she  herself  will 
be  a  gainer  by  the  marriage,  that  at  least  in  this  world  it 


49°  MEMORIALS   OF  A  QUIET   LIFE. 

will  make  her  happier.  It  would  have  been  a  great  thing  if 
Marcus  married  a  person  who  did  not  slacken  the  bonds 
that  unite  us ;  but  he  seems  to  have  chosen  the  only  person 
in  the  world  that  will  draw  them  tighter  and  closer. 
Marcus's  speech  to  Lucy,  '  that  he  had  never  in  his  life  done 
what  he  liked,  except  in  marrying  her,'  seems  to  me  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  compliments  (that  is  not  the  word,  but  I 
cannot  think  of  a  better)  ever  paid;  and  we  who  have 
known  him  from  his  childhood  know  how  true  it  is.  It 
would  be  indeed  very  delightful  if  I  could  bring  you 
here  from  Alderley.  I  should  like  to  have  you  here  while 
everything  is  in  full  beauty  ;  and  though  my  house  will  not 
be  in  apple-pie  order,  you  will  not  growl  very  much  at  that. 
Besides,  I  shall  try,  if  possible,  to  get  Marcus  and  Lucy  for 
a  day  or  two  on  their  way.  I  know  that  every  day  will  be 
precious  to  them,  and  I  would  not  ask  it,  if  I  did  not  think 
that  I  might  be  of  some  use  to  them,  in  talking  to  them  about 
what  they  are  to  see  and  admire,  and  showing  them  some  of 
the  spoils  I  have  brought  back  from  Rome,  such  as  prints, 
•casts,  and  so  on,  which  will  prepare  them  for  what  they  are 
to  find.  It  is  a  matter  of  great  importance  to  have  one's 
eyes  properly  opened.  And  oh,  what  a  joy  it  would  be  to 
me  to  have  my  two  beloved  brothers  and  my  two  beloved 
sisters  here !  My  big  house  would  not  look  lonely  again 
through  the  whole  winter.  The  very  chairs  would  begin  to 
dance  and  sing  for  joy,  instead  of  standing  so  sullenly  round 
the  room,  scowling,  because,  in  spite  of  all  the  temptations 
they  hold  out,  nobody  comes  to  sit  on  them." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  August  25. — A  beautiful  day  took  us  from  Stoke 
to  Malvern.  We  sallied  out  as  soon  as  we  had  had  a  cup 
of  coffee,  I  on  a  donkey  and  Augustus  on  foot,  and  had 
time  for  a  charming  ride  round  by  the  south  seat,  with  a 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD. 


flood  of  light  from  the  setting  sun  on  the  view.  Yesterday 
morning,  having  breakfasted,  we  set  off  on  two  donkeys  and 
rode  to  Little  Malvern — a  beautiful  morning,  and  it  quite 
reminded  me  of  one  of  our  Pyrenean  rides.  What  a  lovely 
place  it  is,  and  the  church  quite  beautiful  !  I  do  quite 
delight  in  Malvern,  we  enjoyed  it  so  much.  At  ten  we  set 
out  on  our  journey,  but  Augustus's  throat  and  chest  were 
so  bad  he  could  not  speak  much.  We  got  home  at  half-, 
past  eight,  Aug.  thoroughly  knocked  up,  and  it  is  very 
provoking  bringing  him  back  much  worse  than  he  went." 

On  the  1 8th  of  September,  Augustus  and  Maria  Hare 
returned  to  Alderley,  where  the  wedding  took  place  on  the 
24th.  While  there,  his  failing  health  was  so  apparent  that 
the  family  persuaded  him  to  consent  to  give  up  his  duty  for 
a.  time,  and  to  accompany  the  newly-married  pair  to  Italy, 
all  difficulties  about  expense  being  overruled  by  Mr.  Ley- 
cester's  liberality. 

M.  II.  to  the  Miss  HARES. 

"  Alderley  Rectory,  September  29,  1833. — My  dear  aunts, 
the  bells  are  ringing  a  merry  peal  to  tell  the  world  that  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Marcus  Hare  are  one ;  so  let  me  give  our  warmest 
congratulations  to  you  both,  that  this  most  happy  event  is 
now  really  completed,  and  the  awful  ceremony  over,  which 

has  linked  together  for  life  two   so  dear  to  us  all 

The  morning  was  very  wet  and  stormy,  but  the  church  was 
as  full  as  it  could  hold,  and  the  view,  looking  from  the 
side  of  the  altar  where  we  stood,  was  very  striking,  with 
Marcus  and  his  trembling  bride  in  front  of  the  altar,  the 
bridesmaids  behind  them,  Sir  John  and  Lady  Maria  on  each 
side,  and  all  of  us  ranged  in  the  chancel  round.  Edward 
Stanley  read  the  service  very  impressively. 


492  MEMORIALS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"You  will  be  very  sorry  to  hear  that  my  poor  Augustus 
has  been  suffering  a  great  deal  from  his  cough,  and  he  took 
the  opportunity,  the  day  after  we  arrived  here,  of  going  over 
to  Bodryddan  to  see  Dr.  Warren.  Both  he  and  Dr.  Brabant 
agreed  in  thinking  a  cessation  from  duty  and  exertion  of  mind 
so  essential  to  his  recovery,  that  after  some  trouble,  by  the 
united  entreaties  of  all  here  assembled,  he  has  at  last  con- 
sented to  put  a  curate  into  our  house  for  the  winter  months, 
and  leave  Alton,  in  the  hope  that  he  may  return  to  it  strong 
and  well,  and  able  to  resume  his  duties  without  suffering 
from  it.  And  where  do  you  think  we  are  to  go  to  ?  We 
have  actually  decided  upon  accompanying  Marcus  and 
Lucy  to  Italy,  where  we  doubt  not,  under  God's  blessing, 
our  dear  Augustus  will  be  restored  to  health.  There  seemed 
at  first  many  difficulties  attendant  on  this  scheme,  but  the 
chief  one,  which  was  the  money,  my  father  has  helped  us  out 
of,  and  all  others  are  no  consideration  where  so  great  an 
object  is  to  be  attained." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"  Alton,  October  3. — This  has  been  a  sad  week.  Augustus's 
cough  has  been  much  worse  since  we  reached  home,  and  he 
has  been  very  weak  and  incapable  of  any  exertion.  Yester- 
day and  to-day  I  think  he  has  begun  to  rally  a  little,  other- 
wise I  felt  quite  in  fear  how  he  would  bear  the  travelling, 
being  so  weak. 

"  The  way  the  people  speak  of  our  going  is  very  touching. 
There  is  not  a  dissentient  voice  about  the  good  of  it,  if  it  is 
likely  to  do  Mr.  Hare  good,  though  mixed  with  regret  of 
their  own.  An  old  man  in  Great  Alton,  who  fell  clown 
yesterday  and  broke  his  thigh,  told  Augustus  to-day,  '  Ah, 
sir,  when  I  could  not  sleep  last  night,  I  did  pray  God 
would  bring  you  back  to  us  safe  and  well ; '  and  that 
seemed  the  uppermost  thought  of  his  heart  in  the  midst  of 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  493 

all  his  pain.  They  of  course  look  at  his  pale  face  and 
think  him  worse  than  he  really  is.  It  would  never  have 
done  to  stay  here  and  be  unable  to  do  anything.  It  grieves 
him  so  to  be  a  cipher  in  his  own  church.  We  have  some 
trouble  in  getting  help. 

"  I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  say  all  I  feel  for  your  great 
tenderness  and  affection  for  us,  dearest  Kitty.  God  bless 
you  for  it,  and  make  us  thankful  for  having,  in  addition  to 
our  own  happiness  in  each  other,  so  much  in  those  nearest 
and  dearest  to  us." 

"  October  14. — Our  new  curate  is  Mr.  Robert  Kilvert, 
who  seems,  from  his  great  gentleness  of  disposition  and  his 
earnest  desire  of  doing  good,  to  be  just  fitted  to  teach  oui 
rustic  people ;  and,  with  his  sister  to  teach  in  the  schools 
and  look  after  the  female  part  of  the  flock,  we  shall  leave 
our  parish  in  great  comfort." 

L.  A.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Alton,  Sunday,  October  20,  1833. — I  know  you  will 
quite  understand  how  much  easier  it  has  been  in  the  very 
short  time  I  have  been  here  to  wish  to  write  than  to  do  it. 
I  need  not  say  how  I  enjoyed  the  journey  yesterday,  with 
the  prospect  of  Alton  at  the  end,  or  how  my  heart  beat  at 
the  first  sight  of  the  White  Horse,  and  the  wild  soft  Downs ; 
or  how  the  fulness  of  joy  quite  equalled  all  my  anticipa- 
tions, when  we  drove  up  through  the  little  gate,  and  saw 
first  Augustus's  head  peep  out  and  vanish  from  the  study 
window,  and  Maria  the  same  from  the  drawing-room  above. 
You  can  guess  the  feeling  of  finding  one's  self  in  this  pretty 
room  again,  looking  out  on  that  peaceful  view,  and  feeling 
one's  self  indeed  Maria's  sister.  To-day  has  been  a  blessed 
day,  and  one  never  to  forget.  There  was  only  morning 
service  at  the  little  church,  which  Mr.  Majendie  performed. 


494  MEMORIALS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Augustus  had  said  his  taking  any  part,  or  preaching,  was  out 
of  the  question.  I  was  not  therefore  prepared  to  see  him 
quietly,  at  the  end  of  the  service,  open  the  pew  door,  and 
ascend  the  pulpit,  from  whence  he  spoke  twenty-five 
minutes,  without  any  coughing,  and  scarcely  any  appear- 
ance of  nervousness.  He  took  Acts  xx.  32,  dwelt  very 
slightly  on  his  leaving  them,  but  went  through  the  verse, 
showing  how  he  commended  them  to  God,  and  to  the 
word  of  His  grace,  and  how  that  could  build  them  up.  He 
ended  with  the  twenty-seventh  verse  of  the  first  of  Philip- 
pians.  I  need  not  try  to  bring  before  you  the  attentive  faces. 
in  the  gallery,  or  the  occasional  blowing  of  a  nose,  or 
Maria's  tearful  yet  happy  face,  or  my  feelings  of  the  purest, 
most  perfect  happiness  I  ever  felt  on  earth,  when  I  knelt 
at  that  little  altar,  with  my  husband  on  one  side  and  Maria 
on  the  other,  and  received  the  cup  from  Augustus — that 
part  he  was  able  to  do.  No  one  who  had  seen  him  kneeling 
before  the  table  yesterday,  and  watched  the  earnest  prayer 
and  expression  of  his  face,  could  ever  forget  it.  Not  one 
foreboding  of  evil  came  across  me  to  disturb  the  joy,  and  I 
think  not  across  Maria.  Even  when  his  cough  for  a  moment 
disturbed  one,  it  gave  one  no  anxiety.  I  felt  sure  he  would 
return  to  his  people  stronger  and  better  than  ever." 

Those  who  were  present  retain  a  touching  remembrance 
of  the  love  which  Augustus  Hare  manifested  for  his  people 
at  a  farewell  supper  which  he  gave  to  them  in  his  barn  a 
few  days  before  he  left  England.  After  he  had  parted  from 
them  with  prayer  and  a  short  exhortation,  he  was  sitting 
quietly  in  the  drawing-room,  when  the  singers,  underneath 
the  window,  unexpectedly  began  the  Evening  Hymn. 
Quickly  unfastening  the  shutter,  his  face  working  with  emo- 
tion, he  threw  up  the  sash,  exclaiming,  "  Dear  people,  how 


THE   SHADOW   OF  THE   CLOUD.  495 

can  I  leave  you  !  "  and  then  sank  back  on  a  chair  quite 
exhausted  by  the  mental  conflict,  and  then  a  terrible  fit  of 
coughing  came  on. 

Tuesday,  October  22nd,  was  his  last  morning  at  Alton, 
and  many  were  the  sad  forebodings  which  his  looks  inspired 
in  the  hearts  of  his  people.  "  They  seemed,"  wrote  Mr. 
Majendie,  "  to  realise  during  his  sermon  on  the  previous 
Sunday  that  they  were  about  to  lose  him,  and  they  then 
began  to  sorrow  most  of  all  that  they  should  see  his  face  no 
more.  His  manner  during  that  service  reminded  one  of 
the  lines  of  Baxter : 

"  '  To  preach  as  if  you  ne'er  would  preach  again, 
And  as  a  dying  man — to  dying  men.'  " 

On  the  Tuesday  morning,  Miss  Miller,  who  had  become 
especially  endeared  to  him,  went  in  to  take  leave.  He 
gave  her  a  little  plant  to  take  care  of  for  him,  and  thtn  said, 
"  You  also  are  a  young  plant,  you  know,  and  a  young  plant 
must  make  great  shoots.  I  shall  expect,  when  I  come 
back,  to  find  you  have  made  great  shoots — shoots  of  grace 
and  holiness."  As  she  was  going  sadly  away  across  the 
little  field  in  front  of  the  house,  he  called  her  back.  It  was 
to  speak  to  her  of  James  Norris,  one  of  her  father's  work- 
men, who  had  taken  to  drinking.  "  You  must  treat  him 
very  tenderly,"  he  said  ;  "  he  cannot  be  driven  ;  he  must 
be  very  tenderly  dealt  with." 

M.  H.  to  C.  S. 

"Southampton,  October  23,  1833. — From  dinner  to  tea 
yesterday  Augustus  had  a  succession  of  people  come  to  say 


496  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

good-bye.  He  had  them  in  the  study,  and  gave  a  suitable 
word  of  exhortation  to  each,  and  was  much  touched  by  the 
simple  and  varying  manner  in  which  they  spoke  of  our 
going.  Tuesday  happily  was  a  fine  morning,  so  that  I 
could  go  round  and  take  leave.  Poor  old  Maslen  sent  a 
message  to  say  if  Mr.  Hare  had  any  orders  to  leave,  he 
begged  he  would  write  them  down,  for  he  could  not  bear  to 

come  and  wish  him  good-bye At  half-past  eleven 

we  got  into  the  carriage  and  drove  away,  and  certainly,  by 
the  time  we  had  got  over  the  '  Brow,'  1  felt  the  relief  of  its 
being  over. 

"  We  reached  Southampton  at  half-past  six,  and  found 
Marcus,  Lucy,  and  Julius.  You  can  imagine  no  enjoyment 
more  perfect  than  that  of  our  evening  together.  Lucy  was 
at  the  summit  of  happiness." 

The  amusing  difficulties  of  Julius's  housekeeping  were  the 
chief  topic  of  that  last  evening  ;  he  had  already  spoken  of 
them  by  letter. 

JULIUS  HARE  to  A.  \V.  H. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,    October   15,    1833. — With    regard    to 

pupil-taking  I  wanted  to  know  your  opinion I  myself 

am  no  less  averse  to  it  than  you  can  be,  both  from  taste 
and  from  principle ;  for  I  fear  that  even  without  them  I 
shall  have  little  time  enough  for  anything  beyond  the  work 
of  the  week,  and  I  cannot  help  grieving  at  the  thought  that 
all  I  have  been  doing,  all  I  have  been  labouring  to  acquire 
for  the  last  five-and-twenty  years,  is  to  be  utterly  throwr. 
away,  and  for  what  ?  In  order  to  do,  or  rather  to  fail  in 
doing,  that  which  tens  of  thousands  would  have  done  quite 
as  well,  and  thousands  far  better  than  I  can  do.  Your 
womankind  won't  understand  or  sympathize  with  me  in 
this ;  but  they  are  no  authority  on  such  matters.  Women 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.  497 

are  too  purely  heavenly-minded — that  is  to  say,  when  they 
are  so  at  all,  religion  is  to  them  everything ;  and  they  can- 
not see  religion  in  anything  but  religion.  Science,  philo- 
sophy, statecraft,  they  know  nothing  about,  and  therefore  of 
course  cannot  care  about.  But  as  I  am  two  thousand 
pounds  out  of  pocket  by  my  living,  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
ought  not,  as  a  matter  of  duty,  to  take  pupils,  so  long  at 
least  as  that  I  may  lift  my  head  above  water,  and  clear  off 
my  debts.  What  Marcus  says  about  my  parting  with  my 
servants  I  do  not  attach  much  weight  to.  Elphick  is  the 
only  one  who  would  be  a  great  loss,  and  he  would  rather 
cut  his  hand  off  than  quit  the  place ;  only,  if  his  wife  goes, 

he  will  cease  to  be  an  indoor  servant I  must  say  a 

little  more  about  Mrs.  Elphick.  It  is  true  she  is  not  your 
Mary ;  but  where  can  I  find  another  Mary  ?  She  has  lived 
before  in  this  house ;  and  where  could  I  get  any  one  else  ? 
My  cow,  though  an  Alderney,  and  a  delightful  gentle  crea- 
ture, certainly  gives  very  little  and  poor  milk.  This  may 
be  partly  owing  to  the  badness  of  her  pasture,  which,  as  we 
had  hardly  a  drop  of  rain  for  above  twelve  weeks,  is,  or 
rather  was  the  other  day,  so  wretched  on  my  hill,  that  the 
cattle  took  to  browsing  upon  the  sweetbriar  hedge.  I  my- 
self saw  Elphick  churning  away,  and  no  butter  would  come 
of  it.  That  this  is  not  a  thing  totally  unheard  of  appears 
from  that  delightful  passage  of  Ben  Jonson  quoted  in  the 
Phil.  Mus.,  ii.  211.  That  Mrs.  E.  is  not  inexpert  in 
dairy  lore  she  proved  last  year,  when  they  bought  an  old 
cow  of  my  uncle's  for  four  pounds  (mine  cost  eleven),  and 
made  near  two  hundred  pounds  of  butter  in  six  months. 
But  that  was  with  an  old-fashioned  churn ;  mine,  that  gives 
nothing,  is  a  new-fangled  one,  that  is  turned  round  like  a 
wheel.  On  my  return  from  Alderley,  when  I  was  asking 
whether  the  cow  was  improved,  she  told  me  what  struck  me 
as  strange,  that  they  never  used  a  drop  either  of  milk  or 

VOL.  I.  K  K 


498  MEMORIALS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

cream  for  the  servants.  With  her,  she  says,  it  does  not 
agree,  and  that  she  never  eats  any  butter.  '  But  what  have 
the  men  for  breakfast  ? '  '  Bread  and  cheese,  and  meat  and 
beer.'  Well,  this  accounted  for  the  magnitude  of  my 
butcher's  bills,  and  my  great  consumption  of  beer.  But  of 
course,  unless  it  be  the  custom  to  allow  them  only  bread 
and  milk  for  breakfast,  I  can  scarcely  set  the  example.  The 
women  have  tea.  '  What  is  done  with  the  milk  then  ? ' 
'  Given  to  the  dogs,  or  thrown  away.'  This  set  me  on 
inquiring.  '  Thrown  away '  does  not  mean  given  to  the 
pigs,  for  I  have  none  yet,  nor  a  stye.  Such  vulgar  animals 
were  not  allowed  to  come  near  the  rectory  under  the  anrien 
regime,  and  the  carpenter  has  had  too  much  to  do  hitherto 
in  providing  lodgings  for  my  books,  which  even  I  thought 
deserved  to  be  helped  first.  As  to  dogs,  I  believe  I  have 
none  of  Arctis  sort.  But  George  (my  foot-boy),  who  has  a 
great  love  for  animals,  has  a  spaniel ;  and  a  Newfoundland 
was  brought  the  other  day  for  approbation,  but  was  too 
beautiless  for  such  a  slave  of  the  eye  as  I  am.  So  after 
some  days  he  was  dismissed. 

"  I  had  a  letter  to-day  telling  me  that  another  beloved 
friend  is  on  the  point  of  taking  a  wife — Digby.  His  letter 
is  one  of  the  most  singular  I  ever  read,  one  of  the  most 
melancholy,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful.  He  mourns 
over  the  prospect  that  he  must  no  longer  be  melancholy, 
over  'having  been  made  to  know  the  very  alarming  truth 
that  he  is  a  rich  man,'  aboat  having  '  been  made  to  hear 
that  he  is  supremely  happy  in  this  world  ! '  '  I  do  feel,'  he 
says,  'a  secret  horror  at  the  thought  of  rest  and  happi- 
ness on  earth.'  I  have  also  an  interesting  letter  from 
Arnold,  who  says,  '  As  you  met  Bunsen  in  Italy,  you  can 
now  sympathise  with  the  ail-but  idolatry  with  which  I 
regard  him.  So  beautifully  good,  so  wise,  and  so  nobfe- 
minded !  I  do  not  believe  that  any  man  alive  can  have  a 


THE    SHADOW   OF   THE   CLOUD.  499 


deeper  interest  in  Rome  than  I  have ;  yet  I  envy  you 
nothing  in  your  last  year's  stay  there  so  much  as  your 
continued  intercourse  with  Bunsen.'  And  all  these  men 
are  my  friends,  my  dear  fond  friends,  loving  me  and 
esteeming  me,  so  far  above  what  I  deserve.  I  can  never 
keep  my  heart  from  bounding  with  gratitude,  when  I  think 
over  the  long  list  of  great  and  good  men  who  have  deigned 

to  call  me  friend And  now  I  must  have  done.     So 

God  bless  you,  and  mind  you,  as  our  dear  aunt  used  to  say ; 
for  body-minding  at  least  you  are  in  sore  need  of." 


OP  VOL.  L 


PXINThD    BY   VIRTUE   AND    CO.,   CITY    KOAD,    LONDOS. 


GAYLORD 


DATE  DUE 


PRINTCOINU   S. 


3  1210  00037  8289 


A    000515549    4 


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